#like yeah they’re at gunpoint there but the energy is there

[skelavender]

a headcanon that is very important to me personally is that mulder and scully’s strides start to change as they settle into their partnership. like even when they’re not around each other. scully’s get longer and mulder’s get shorter so that they can walk side by side easier. maybe in the beginning, mulder is rushing around and scully is always trying to keep up, but he learns to slow down so he can talk and listen while they walk. eventually, they unconsciously adjust and meet in the middle. it’s just one of the things that irons itself out as they grow and change around each other, and their relationship as partners and friends starts to take shape :)

[daisychainsandbowties]

ummmm thoughts on x files warrior nun au?

(i have an ask buried down here in which someone else has a MUCH better idea than this & i’ll throw that out in a sec but for my 2 cents)

i think it’s obvious that nobody on planet earth or beyond has quite as much Mulder energy as Ava fucking Silva

i’ve always figured Ava would be a space nerd but also specifically into cryptozoology and astrobiology as like… interesting thought experiments & also just annoying the nuns with ‘yeah so personally i think jesus christ was a space alien.’

grown-up Ava crammed into a filing-cabinet-sized room at where the FBI live (i’m european) & like… she has a parking space but has never heard of business casual. rolls up to the office with starbucks wearing a shirt that says ‘i was abducted by aliens and all i got was [redacted]’. they call her Spooky Silva (😌 yes like spooky mulder it fits her better honestly) she spends all day reading old casefiles and snacking on pistachios.

BUT listen before we move on to the Scully of it all there’s Lilith. i think we can all agree this is a prime opportunity for my favourite dish which is ‘established avalil.’ 👀

picture Ava crammed in her tiny office but with Lilith (aka ‘the she-devil’) Villaumbrosia. they’re both the laughing-stock of the FBI (their nicknames make them sound like a band lmao if’s Spooky Silva and The She-Devil)

but while Ava is the one who responds to ‘you’re the worst agent i’ve ever heard of’ with *sips drink* ‘but you HAVE heard of me’, Lilith will literally just go and key your car in full view of the security cameras. together they’re a huge embarassment but also occasionally they crack cases that nobody else can (ava: ‘it’s called having an open mind’) so they’re grudgingly tolerated. deeply homerotic work-wives.

and in comes beatrice. physics-major-turned-MD, sent to topple the disaster avalil jenga tower. she’s got the MOST scully vibes tbh. that wry humour & also the dose of suspicion/🙄 that scully brings to the table. bewildered by ava & weird with lilith. like just picture the three of them on road trips. lilith who hates all music and ava who likes all music and bea sitting through the fourth consecutive argument about where they should stop for lunch. but like… she grows to love them. literally can’t help herself. the intimacy of that scene from the antarctic episode where scully takes her shirt off so mulder can check if she’s got the Ice Virus 🫠 but with all three of them. crying just contemplating

this leading into the Scully-brand ‘yes i will hold a government official at gunpoint because they kidnapped ava’. the ‘i live and die for you (two)’ of the mulder/scully whatever-the-fuck. the season 2 mutual pining of it all.

Ava pointing to her ‘the truth is out there’ poster and pretending it automatically wins every argument. honesly bea as a trained medical doctor 😳 the potential for a good old ‘one character bleeding everywhere & one freaking out & the other like Trying not to also freak out bc goddamn it kirk i’m genuinely a doctor.’

but YES basically 🥰 a million and one hearts and kisses to the x files au

[dilf-whore]

not a damsel in distress

pairing: tasm!peter parker x scarlet witch!f!reader

genre: angst, fluff

warnings: mentions of death, a hint of abuse, violence

summary: peter sees you in danger and attempts to save you

A/N: sorry for posting this so late 😭. i promise to make it up to you guys. anyways, leave in some comments on this fic. i really appreciate reading your thoughts and feedbacks. 💗

requested: yes by: @oyasumimosura

requests are OPEN

masterlist

☾

“Thank you, come again!” you bid your last customer goodbye. You clean your flower shop and take a final look on your flowers, checking if some of them are dying. You spot a few tulips withering and you cast a spell to bring them back to life. Your customers come back to your shop because of how lively, pretty, and long lasting they are, they’d often ask what your secret is “guess I have a magic touch” you’d often reply but what they didn't know is that you literally have a magic touch. 

You cast spells on your flowers for them to live long.

After closing, you first stop by your favorite diner to eat, you step in and you spot a familiar figure looking down on his dinner, his fork grazing over his untouched food. You step further into the diner and recognize the man, it was Peter. You stand beside him with a smile, “hi Peter, long time no see. Mind if I sit with you?” you ask. He looks over you, and a small smile forms on his lips but his eyes are different, it had nothing but guilt, grief and sadness. “Yeah sure” he motions the space in front of him.

You order your usual, and face Peter who looks at the window, wandering around the busy street of New York. “How are you and Gwen doing? Seems like you don’t stop by the shop to buy her flowers”. He faces you, “Gwen’s uh, uhm, she-she’s” he stutters and his eyes starts to get glossy as his voice starts to trail off.

“I’m sorry for your loss” you say as you read his mind with your powers.

Peter gets taken aback and just nod, he didn't expect you to pick up on what he’s trying to say. You look away as you try to find for an excuse when you see his surprised reaction, “I uhm could tell with your eyes. The way they look, it’s not sad from a typical heartbreak of a breakup. They’re filled with grief”.

Your food arrives shortly after and Peter still hasn't responded nor looked at you, “I-I’m sorry for being to straight forward o-or getting in your business” you say quietly as you slice through your meal and begin to eat. 

“It’s alright, I’m actually pretty glad that I didn't have to explain or talk much about it than I usually do” he replies.

“You know, Peter, you can always talk to me especially during this time. You need someone to express your feelings to and I’m willing to help” 

☾

Since then, you and Peter have gotten closer. He would stop by your shop when it’s near your closing time to help you clean and pack up and go home together. You’d also accompany him to Gwen’s grave whenever he decides to pay her a visit. He’s forever grateful to have you help him through the darkest times, you were able to guide Peter on how to grieve and let his emotions out properly - and honestly, just having you by his side makes him feel understood, less lonely, heard, and safe for some reason he can’t point out. Maybe it’s because of the warm and comforting energy you give off or the way you give all your attention to him whenever he talks. 

Today’s a holiday and you and Peter planned on spending the day together at the mall and watch a movie. You decided to arrive earlier so you could get tickets to your preferred time before it solds out. As you make your way the cinemas, you suddenly hear a cry for help from a woman. You spot a group of people in a panic state as the woman and her child are being held at gunpoint by a man that seems familiar to her. You rush to the commotion, when the man fires his gun and you cast a force-field around the mother and her son, causing the bullet to fall down.

“Hey! Let them go!”

Everyone had a shock look plastered over their faces, though they’ve encountered a giant talking lizard attacked the city and some other odd things, they haven’t seen anything like this - only in movies, it was magic, literal super powers.

The man gets his composure back and faces you, “I don’t think you should be butting in my family business, you fucking freak”. That’s why they know him, he’s the father you thought.

Peter arrives at the mall and his senses starts to tingle, he quickly changes to his suit and swings to where the danger is. He arrives at the scene and sees you in front of a man who’s gun is aiming at you. His heartbeat speeds up, worry and fear circulating over his body - the memory of what happened to Gwen comes back to him. He needed to act fast and act now.

But before he could do anything, he suddenly freezes when your eyes glow red and so does your hands. You ball your hand into a fist and his gun crushed into pieces, red rings wrap around his wrists and ankles that’s pulling him down to the ground until he’s kneeling. You approach him and bend down to meet his struggling eyes, “I’m sorry what did you say?” 

You then approach the woman and her son, “are you alright?” you ask. “Yes, thank you so much for saving us” the woman replies. 

The boy gets out of his mother’s grasp and wraps his arms around your waist, “You’re so cool! You’re my new favorite superhero, you’re cooler than Spiderman! Thank you so much” he says, resting his chin on your stomach as he looks up to you with so much adoration. “You’re welcome”. He gives you one last smile and pulls away to go back to his mom. 

You hear a thwip! from behind and you see Spiderman swinging towards you, he lands in front of you and pull you into a tight hug. “A-are you okay?” he asks, frantically checking your body for injuries.

He sounds really familiar. 

You look at him confused as you put a hand on his shoulder, “I’m alright, uh thanks”. 

Spiderman sighs in relief and finally calms down, “uhm, well, t-that’s good to hear”. He thought he’ll lose you and all he’ll ever blame is no other than his self if that happened but guess she could handle herself pretty well he thought.

The cops arrive soon after and arrest the man. You look over Spiderman who’s still beside you, looks like he can’t let you go. You tap his arm and lean to his ear, “let’s go watch our movie, Peter” you whisper with a smirk.

☾

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

Why do you hate Kenny so much? No hate, I don’t like him either. I'm curious for your reasons :3

Ugh, Kenny... okay. 

So, when I say I hate Kenny, I am more so referring to S2 Kenny above S1 Kenny. I don’t love S1 Kenny, either, but compared to his S2 counterpart, he’s much more tolerable... though that’s not saying much. He’s still an annoying bastard most of the time in S1 unless you kiss his ass, but...

Look, I get it. Kenny from a storytelling and character standpoint is interesting. He goes through a whole bunch of bullshit, he has a fantastic voice actor who can really sell him, he’s an important character for two seasons and that leaves a lot of room for him to grow.... and if you love him, cool. I’m not here to judge you or tell you ya can’t love him-- I’m not an asshole. 

What I don’t get, though, are the ride-or-die Kenny stans who act like Kenny has never done anything wrong ever, or that if he does do something bad, there’s always an excuse for it. 

What’s even more annoying is that there’s always an excuse for Kenny when he behaves badly, but if another character does something similar and they share a similar trauma to him? Everyone says “fuck you” to that character, but for Kenny, it’s “No, you just don’t get it, Kenny’s been through so much trauma and pain and he lost his family--” 

There’s always an excuse for Kenny, y’know? 

And I’ll be honest... I don’t get it.

To me, Kenny’s a prick who refuses to compromise for the better of the group that he treats like shit, he’s uncomfortably possessive of Clementine and AJ, and he’s dangerous. By the time I get to ep5 of S2, I wanna get as far away from him as fucking possible. I don’t want him around Clementine and AJ, and I sure as hell don’t want him raising them-- I don’t care what ANF says, that “nice” Kenny is just a glorified fanservice version of Kenny, not the Kenny that’s portrayed in S2. 

And yeah, I hear you-- “No! Kenny isn’t a prick! Everything he does, he does for Clementine and AJ! He loves them and would never hurt them on purpose! He’s lost everything, including his family! It’s everyone else that sucked!”

Uh-huh, and I argue that Kenny doesn’t give a shit about anyone that doesn’t directly benefit him, or aren’t his family or Clementine and AJ, two children that he clings onto in such an uncomfortable manner it’s... ugh. 

Seriously, if he cared about the group and their survival, he’d be willing to compromise but no, it’s always his way or fuck you. No, Clementine is staying here, fuck you. No, we’re escaping even if we don’t have a plan and it gets half of us killed, fuck you. No, we’re going to Wellington even though it might be bullshit and we literally have no food left to keep AJ alive but there’s baby formula back at Howe’s, fuck you. 

And if Clementine doesn’t side with him? He gets so fucking angry with her, yelling that he needed her back there and she embarrassed him in front of everyone and he outta slap her for talkin’ the way she does and I just-- 

And then don’t even get me started with the whole Sarita thing. Like, she only exists to die so that Kenny can go through this shit again. And I get it, I’d be pissed, too. And really, Bonnie’s the dumbass who thought it’d be a good idea for Clementine to go over there while Kenny’s armed and grieving. 

But the thing is Kenny blames EVERYTHING on the 11-year-old. I’m sorry, Kenny, but uh... Where were you? No really, when Sarita was wandering and got bit, you were nowhere in sight. Where were you? Is that it? Do you feel better blaming the literal child for what happened rather than look at your role? 

Now, to his credit, Kenny DOES actually apologize for his behavior here and it feels sincere... however, that apology doesn’t do much when he doesn’t get better and grow from it. 

In fact, the last time I replayed S2, I was playing with the random number generator-- RNG. Well, because of this, I was unable to convince Kenny to rejoin the group when they’re all camping. 

And do you know what happens when Kenny doesn’t rejoin the group?

Y’know when Mike offers Arvo some booze, and Arvo has a breakdown because he’s suffering from the loss of his sister and being forced at gunpoint to lead this group to a hideout with food, and the group tie him up in the cold and leave him? 

Yeah, Kenny comes over and beats Arvo unconscious. 

Why?

He was making noise. 

...I don’t care what you think of Arvo, and I don’t care what excuse you have for Kenny’s behavior here-- It isn’t enough, and I want to get Clem and AJ the hell away from him. 

“But Kenny would never do that to Clem or AJ--”

That’s not good enough. His solution to a kid crying because he’s in pain is to knock him unconscious because he’s being noisy. And then he wonders why Arvo was so desperate to leave and even willing to shoot Clementine. 

Look, I don’t like Arvo either, but really? Kenny constantly abusing this kid is fucked but because it’s Arvo, everyone’s like “Well...” 

I can’t with S2 Kenny. Again, if you understand that Kenny’s behavior isn’t justified and still love him because he’s a fascinating character study? Great! And I mean that sincerely! I’m happy that you enjoy his character arc over the two seasons. I wish I could, too, but he makes me miserable every time I go back to S2. 

He’s dangerous, he’s scary, and in my opinion, the ending where Clementine and AJ walk out into the woods with him is the worst ending you can get. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to diss anyone who sees that as their canon ending, but that’s just how I feel. 

Honestly, I could probably write an entire fucking essay on all my gripes with S2 Kenny but I just don’t have the time or energy right now. Maybe one day I’ll do a deep dive into Kenny and share all my personal feelings but for right now...

In conclusion, the reasons I have for disliking Kenny the way I do are personal and based on my experience playing these games over the years. My opinion of him has not gotten better, only worse. 

[deniigi]

I always love the vigilante culture in your stories. I love the diner In your p+c verse, but how did it become THE vigilante restaurant? Was it like with Claire where someone helped or fed the vigilante they found I their dumpster and then suddenly they have a vigilante infestation worse than NYC’s rat population?

I’m so pleased, anon.

I ADORE vigilante culture. I want to have a bath in that tub.

I think the diner started out as Frank Castle’s Secondary Location, and then Danny Rand started hanging out there with him on the booth on the other side of his, and they just chilled out and didn’t fight and everyone on the diner staff was like ‘that’s fucking DANNY RAND’ like they were all cool with Frank because he’s recognizable, but he wasn’t bothering anybody, so they didn’t call the cops.

But once Danny was there, it turned into Danny, Luke, and Frank.

Then that turned into Danny, Luke, Frank, and Wade who was disgustingly hungover one day and who stumbled in and found the others drinking coffee in silence before being like ‘word’ and passing out on a table.

At that point, the wait staff were like ‘hm. We sure are collecting them. Well, they aren’t hurting anyone? Maybe they’re like birds that gather.’

And slowly, slowly the others started to be pulled in and at some point the restaurant came under attack or was held up at gunpoint and the whole backrow of undercity dwellers wiped their fingers on napkins and stood up and handled it.

Diner’s under their protection now. The owner has been blessed with the weirdest kind of security, but security in New York City is hard to come by so he doesn’t look that gift horse in the mouth. And anyways, the vigilantes and others treat his staff better than most of the other customers.

And so yeah.

Diner is vigilante city now. It doesn’t look like it though, people are totally normal inside. It’s got the energy of a really big Waffle House.

[talietikasero]

Stability

Random prompt from 8/11 [finished 8/16]: rewrite the Strive ending / create an alternate epilogue [to line up with my story project]. I may or may not rewrite the whole thing for fun lmao.

[Main story preview here (contains 6 scenes)] // [Chapter 1 now on AO3]

"I guess... that's what they meant..." She let out between huffs. Both the voice in her head and the former Sanctus Maximus Populi said the same thing regarding her potential ability.

“When the time comes, with your seed, you hold the power to save or destroy the world.”

“You can prevent the end of it all.”

Energy drained, she fought off the sluggish pace her body was moving. Looking over to her partner, she noticed he was barely hanging on to his life, staying incredibly still, and trying to regulate his breathing while facing down. While her body contained the [Scales of Juno], he had the [Flame of Corruption] ripped out from his, reverting him to a human. "On second thought, don't move." Once she closed the distance between them, she knelt and put her arms around him. Face against the scuffed leather sleeve, and she struggled to hold her emotions in. "H-hey..." Voice cracking, she lowly muttered between sniffles, "please, don't go..."

"..."

"You... you stayed true to... your word about... a-about..."

"..."

"Fighting to... s-save the world..."

"If the world was going to disappear tomorrow... What would you do today?"

"What kind of a question is that? Stop whatever's ending the world or die trying."

Her embrace tightened as tears ran down her face. "Human, Gear, or neither. The world still needs you."

With drooped ears and saddened eyes, the wolf spirit whined. Its host and companion soothed it by scratching behind its ears and reassuring the worst had come to pass. "(It's okay, Rei. We're still alive.)." She whispered to the spirit in her native tongue. Another whine followed by a lick to the side of her face, Giovanna patted Rei's forehead. "What? Are you worried about me? I'm okay, I swear." She winced as another sharp pain ran through her body. "Ouch..." Her superior, the President, placed a hand on her shoulder. Half-expecting him to say she's no longer needed, she began, "I'm sorry-..."

"None of that." Vernon's voice was firm; however, it sounded... fatherly. He may have his doubts about the agent, but he knew she was more than capable of the job. Facing off against an unstoppable force, she did prove she's worth giving a higher position. "I can tell what you were thinking, but you're not being let go. You take as much time as you need off, Gio. Goldlewis, Erica, and I will await your return."

Saddened at the loss of someone he could consider a friend, the time traveler meekly looked down at the minty green and white guitar he held in his hands. This entire time he was unaware of her true identity. If he had to lose someone like her, it didn't have to be this way. Regardless of if she recalled who he was and why he was important to her in the first place, false memory or not. He threw away his chance to return home a while ago, and now he felt that it would've been for nothing had he gone through with it. "It shouldn't have ended like this... Megumi." Axl softly said under his breath.

After regaining control over his body and revealing the wicked goddess's weak point, the vampiric samurai pierced the ground a few centimeters with his sword. He kneeled to show his appreciation for defeating the evil force that used him as a puppet. Now, he could see why his master was fascinated by the will of a single person. This same person was stripped of his powers and still faced death head-on. "May you rest for now. The next time we meet, it won't be as enemies, but acquaintances." Drawing his blade from the ground, Nagoriyuki sheathed it and took his leave.

The King of Illyria – his lifelong rival and their son-in-law – made his way over to them, stopping a few feet short to maintain distance. "It's finally over. They're gone. We can... we can go home now." Part of him wanted to hold a hand out to help him stand, yet he held back and deemed that action unnecessary. Ky's spirits rose once he noticed the man in front of him was taking steady deep breaths -- body slowly moving to show signs of life.

Right hand maintaining its grip on the Outrage's handle, his free hand lightly grasped one of hers. Face still downward, a weak smile formed. "...You think so?"

She couldn't believe it. He's hanging by a thread and using what energy he should be saving to answer her with a question of his own.

"I know so."

The past three weeks were a blur. From the day she woke up and adjusted to this new world to the present, where she aided in bringing down a god. She never would've guessed that any of these events could've transpired. In the days leading up to September 2016, she was a terminally ill scientist who refused any life-saving alternative to live past what little time she had left, insisting she spent it with her significant other. Fast forward to December 2187, and she was brought back to life and became the partner of humanity's savior -- the very same person, albeit for the last time.

_____

The next day, another patient was checked into the hospital. This time there wasn’t a commotion caused by bringing his unconscious form bursting through the front doors. She wasn’t strong enough to carry him in her arms like he held her – that’s what the gurney from the airship’s infirmary wing was for.

“I have a request. May I stay here until he recovers? I… I don’t want to leave him.”

Three days later, word had reached his family that he's – miraculously and defying all odds – alive. His refusal to follow the light after what had happened was attributed to his stubborn nature. The Grim Reaper knocked at his door, and he slammed it shut in their face. Occupying the same bed, in the same patient room as her around a month ago, the now de-powered hero lay hooked up to the vitals system.

"Is he going to be alright?"

"Hard to say, but he'll pull through. He did wake up this morning, so there's something, yeah?"

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but has anyone seen my mother? About my height, short red hair with white underneath, and wearing a blue leather jacket? She hasn't been seen since everyone returned."

"She's in the room and hasn't left at all. I had someone stop by the house and bring her spare clothes since she spent the last four days here."

"Oh, thank god." The queen was relieved to know her mother's whereabouts. She respected her parents' privacy by not asking if she was able to go in.

---

Ring-ring. Ring-ring. Ring-ring-ring.

Sighing in aggravation, she answered her phone. There was only one person she kept in contact with these past few days. "What do you want now? He's still not up, so stop cal-..."

"I was going to ask something else. I'm going to regret this, but are you still angry?"

"You're a smart man to keep your distance from me, but a dumbass to ask that. Of course, I am! You ruined our lives with your 'self-righteousness' and nearly brought another apocalypse."

"...Aria, I understand your rage. If only I could rewind time and prevent your illness. I shouldn't have forcibly converted him and disappeared with your sleep capsule. It wasn't my intention to have our research weaponized, but I was figuratively and literally held at gunpoint to hand it over to the US Government. I should've known better and anticipated that Chaos -- erm, the Original's creation would sabotage your activation. Your screams still haunt me... and... I'm... I'm sorry."

"Asuka."

"I can't fix this by excessively apologizing and listing off my crimes, but I hope everything goes well for you and Frederick."

"Whatever. Enjoy the moon, or don't." She ended the call before her former friend could reply. "Asshole." Aria slumped back in the chair and opened her book to the page she left off. "We should've launched you into the sun."

"Oh my. And I thought 'Sol' was a hothead. You're pretty harsh, you know that? It's more frightening than I-No on a good day." Jack-O's voice rang through. Capable of feeling and expressing emotions herself, the Valentine was taken aback at what she heard during their calls. "If possible, can we listen to his show sometime? Please?"

"...Okay."

"Thank you. ~"

---

Forty minutes after the heated conversation, a groggy voice broke the silence.

"Is the... afterlife a sterile... hospital room?" Frederick's eyes were half-open, staring directly at the ceiling.

Aria closed what she was reading and placed it on the counter. Ignoring the monitors that once kept track of her, she looked over his body to see minimal damage sustained. "Looks like you've still got some of that healing factor. Or you're just too hardheaded to die."

He slightly turned his head to face her. "Heh. Probably both."

Running a hand through his now short hair, her lips curved into an unsure smile. "Welcome back to the land of the living?"

"This doesn't look like heaven. If you're my welcome guide, then I'll stay." His body was still sore, but he extended his arm out for her to hold his hand. The warmth from the fire magic still dwelling within them made their contact feel safer.

"I should've worn that jumpsuit and halo." Her inner voice's reaction was an exaggerated throat clear. "But if I did," she held a finger to her temple, "I don't think she would've appreciated that."

"I would've been mildly annoyed at best. Mildly annoyed yet honored that you'd wear it because of what you did."

"You're really pissed off at Asuka, aren't you?"

"How much did you hear?"

"All of it. Didn't know you were capable of that."

"I felt like you after the second day." He took that as a friendly poke at his history. "Since you've saved the world for the last time, are you still up for that 'alternate life' you mentioned the other night? We don't have to stay at Ky and Dizzy's. They can arrange something for us."

His ears perked up at the suggestion. Did she remind him about his statement regarding them settling down? Having survived an act of God, living a quiet life together a few minutes out from the capital didn't sound like a terrible idea. "What did you have in mind?"

"A fair-sized home, nothing too big or small, probably just down the way from their place. I don't want to throw everything away and live in seclusion. We're way out of our own time, but we finally have a family, people who care about us, and we care about them in return. Unless you have a better idea?"

"I'm fine with anything. Can't imagine I'd be able to go out much or at all because I'm officially a dead man."

"Not too long ago, I was a dead woman walking. Besides, the world thinks that Sol Badguy is dead, not Frederick Bulsara."

"Point there. You know, now that I think about it, this situation is just like a month ago."

"With you in my place, but I didn't have to be dragged in? This is the same room where I spent my time recovering. It was also -..."

"Where you got your new start."

"Y-yeah. That's exactly it. This is where I woke up to my new life! Not as Justice, or Jack-O, but as myself. That same day, I met our daughter and her husband, and then I saw you again. Just this time... I've been here since you were checked in. Everyone tried to get me to leave, but I refused."

He noticed the duffel bag placed near the door. There was a pant leg hanging over one side of the unzipped bag, and next to it were two pairs of footwear. "Way to tug at the old heartstrings. Stubborn as always, aren't you?" If he were honest with himself, he wanted to do the same when she was still unconscious. He had the feeling that the IRMC staff wouldn't have thought about asking him to leave the premises, even though he almost kicked the doors clean off the first time.

"One of my best qualities." She winked at him, giggling at her remark.

"Hey, Aria."

"Hm?"

He slowly sat up despite the mild pain, leaning over to bring her in for a hug. "Thank you."

Aria returned the motion, both holding onto each other, not wanting to let go. She had felt incomplete up until this moment. Preventing the end was a combined effort, and she couldn’t be any happier to have been a part of that team.

A sense of déjà vu, the song playing on the radio had neared its end.

You are all I long for All I worship and adore In other words, please be true In other words...

"I love you."

[fishybehavior]

If you're still accepting angst prompts, maybe s7 AU where Kai and Nya's parents are actually evil and working for Krux out of their own free will?

Thank you fro the prompt my dude, I wrote this and I was like, AAaaah... so yeah. TW: death  (495 words) 

Kai’s gut was rarely wrong, that’s why he’s alive today. So when Krux mocked him saying his parents were working with them, he believed it. Cause his gut has always told him his parents were bad. He didn’t want to believe it, did everything in his power to prove himself wrong. But his gut was never wrong, and he stupidly ignored it.

Kai was on the ground at knife point, his own father holding the katana to his throat, while his mother was calmly holding Nya at gunpoint.

“Why?” Kai gasped, confusion mixing with betrayal in his voice.

“Why!?” Their father growled, “Krux promised us so much! A kind of deal you’d be a fool to deny.” The sword against his throat started to draw crimson.

“What kind of deal would make you betray everyone! Would make you leave your children?” Nya screamed back in distress. 

“Nya, honey,” their mother sweetly spoke as if trying to calm a toddler, “Krux offered what we lost, our powers.”

“What?” Kai spoke up. “That’s impossible.  They’re ours, you can’t take them back!”

Ray smiled, “But it is. After you two stole them from us, Krux offered the opportunity to get them back. Just like there’s a way to give them, there’s a way to take them. All we needed to do was build something for him.” The katana was digging into his neck, Kai struggled to back away, but at this point he was pinned against the wall. “And we’d be powerful again.”

“Why leave us then, if  you wanted your powers back?” Nay said, trying to distract Ray from Kai.

“Because darling, we needed you dead.” Maya answered, refocusing Nya on to her. “Without descendants, your elemental powers wouldn’t pass on, effectively leaving them for us to take them when we finished our project. We didn’t think you two would last more than a month by yourselves, and we didn’t want to kill you ourselves. We didn’t want your blood on our hands. But I guess we have to make the difficult choice.” Maya said, pulling back the hammer of the gun.

Kai jumped, summoning his fire to protect his sister. But he forgot the sword Ray held, that was plunged into his throat. His fire sputtered as he choked and fell over, hands to his throat, trying to breathe. His fire died as he choked and sputtered, the room spinning.

He heard his name and a loud bang, then he felt cold and wet as water flooded the room. The room was filled with energy and motion as the figures fought. Kai tried to focus, but everything was in slow motion as he failed to breath, his blood warming his hands.

 Suddenly Nya was above him, her clothes stained red. She cradled his head, brushing his hair, she was shaking, she was crying, he saw her mouth move. His vision was going black, he tried to mouth “I love you” as he finally slipped into the darkness.

[chainofclovers]

for the random asks: all the prime numbers!

Thanks friend! :D 

2. do you believe in soulmates?

I do, actually! I don’t believe in soulmates in a particularly spiritual way—I don’t think there’s one single person predestined to be the “right” fit for another one person. I do think there are some people in life who just resonate at a different, more lasting, more intense frequency than a typical relationship. Maybe it’s a friendship. Maybe it’s a sexual connection. Maybe both. People who keep discovering weird commonalities and uncanny parallels even after being together for years...or maybe they’re wildly different people who nonetheless click in an almost addictive way. I think that’s what a soulmate is. It feels kinda magical even if the relationship itself takes the same practical effort that other relationships do. It’s a concept that makes me very happy. 

I think it’s possible that someone might experience that remarkable kind of soulmate connection to more than one person in their lifetime, and for another to never make that type of connection to another person, and for those facts to not necessarily mean much about how fulfilling life is for that person, if they’re happy, etc. It’s an important thing, but not everything.

^ found via quick and lazy google search, which is why it looks a little weird compared to how I’d edit it if I’d taken the shot myself :D

3. would you ever kiss a stranger?

I don’t know what this says about me, but my brain immediately went to outlandish scenarios such as “I’m walking down the street and there’s a stranger being held at gunpoint, and if I don’t kiss this other person the captive will be killed!”

So yeah, sure, there are circumstances in which I’d kiss a stranger. But outside of those outliers, I’ll just stick to kissing my wife. :) 

5. do you usually use cash or card?

Usually a card, especially in these pandemic times, but I really like the tangibility of cash. I try to always have at least a little cash in my wallet, especially if I’m traveling, because you never know when you’ll require it--wisdom from my dad that I’ve carried with me into adulthood.

7. do you like your name? if not, what would you change your name to?

I do like my name! I publish under my full name, and nearly everyone outside of that calls me by a (very traditional) nickname (for that name), and I’m happy with both.

11. do you prefer to color with colored pencils, crayons, or markers?

MARKERS! So satisfying.

13. do you have a signature in your style/everyday outfits?

Not really? I like colorful shoes, I have blunt bangs in my hair, my clothes and face are pretty much lazy femme (lots of jeans and SWEATERS, comfy dresses, minimal makeup if any) but none of those things are particularly unique.

17. if you could wear one color for the rest of your life, what would it be?

Probably grey. That would get me options from nearly white to nearly black, and everything would look good together.

19. what’s your favorite social media platform?

Hahahaahahaa, honestly...tumblr. It’s a disaster, but the posts appear chronologically, which is everything I want in a social media platform. I get to anonymously and enthusiastically post about how much Jane Fonda is posting about that squirrel these days. My dashboard is extremely queer. My presence here has no bearing on my professional life. 

I’m active on both Instagram and Twitter as well, and there are good and bad things about both, but tumblr’s probably my fave.

23. what was the last text you sent?

“That’s so sweet, though!” 

29. do you think __x__ is overrated or underrated?

Skipping this one since I don’t have the thing I’m supposed to compare.

31. do you believe in ghosts?

OK, you know how I believe in soulmates but not in a spiritual/magical way? I’m kind of the same way about ghosts. I don’t think there are wispy white spirits materializing everywhere, but I very much believe that people’s ~~~energy~~~ and memories and experiences don’t just disappear when they die. As a poet, I have a pretty wide view of what a ghost is: a strong memory, an unexplained energy shift, a suddenly-found object, a chill down the spine. All that stuff counts, I think. I’m less interested in whether a ghost is a conscious being having an experience and more interested in what the still-alive people understand to be a ghost.

37. when was the last time you finished a book?

About a week ago. Today or tomorrow I’ll finish Luster by Raven Leilani, which is amazing.

41. who do you think has it easiest: older siblings or younger siblings?

Oof, I think that depends almost entirely on how self-aware the parents are.

43. do you enjoy big groups?

I do, although they stress me out now and probably will for a long time. The last time I was in a big unmasked group was in mid-March, on my last day in office. I was ironically with a LOT of people when we found out we were switching to remote work. Since then, I have been to some Black Lives Matter protests and rallies with nearly everyone masked and as distant as possible. ❤️

In non-pandemic times, I really love a lot of varieties of large group energy: protests/marches, big parties, concerts. I think the carefree way I used to feel in certain group settings like concerts will not be possible for years to come, though, and I’ll have to relearn a relationship to those types of spaces once it is safe(r).  I’m on the cusp of introvert/extrovert, though, so even in the best of times I can only be in huge crowds sparingly, and I really need time alone or time with just my wife so that I can recharge. 

47. how many followers do you have?

I have 938 tumblr followers.

[phantomphangphucker]

The Whole Ass Fic A.K.A ClockWork Is Paying At Least One Person Hush Money

Vlad’s dumbest plot yet leads to a grade A gravy bowl of a dumb reveal. Danny’s class feels left out, Wes is literally left out, and ClockWork is forcing me to not leave them out at gunpoint.

Now that y’all have voted, I present to you, the Whole Ass Fic

Danny was having a nice day, he honest to the Core was. But then a blue portal half fucking blinded him, a startled Mr. Lancer accidentally threw a whiteboard marker into his eye, and Dash finally succeeded in hitting him -in the eye of all places, ugh- with a spitball. All of this followed by a -probably not quiet- mutter of, “ClockWork end me”. In short, he had already filled his quota for ocular trauma today.

But looking to the front as a -very not cheesetastic- certain someone stops monologuing, he’s experiencing a-whole-ass-nother kind of ocular trauma.

Danny gets up from his desk and slowly walks up to the front, eyes filled with disappointment and the residual energy of his three breakfast Red Bulls, “okay, so you’re telling me-”, Danny gestures erratically to Vlad, who's tied up on the floor and in ghost form, “-that you overshadowed ClockWork-”, gesturing even more erratically at ClockWork -who’s just sitting on a desk and inspecting their nails- but Danny maintains wide-eyed eye-contact with Vlad instead of attempting down the rabbit hole of why ClockWork is still here. Glaring at floor Vlad harder, somehow, “-so you could travel to the future, to team up with your future self and bring him back here-”, Danny points both hands at the floor a bit aggressively, “-so you could tag-team pulverise a teenager-”.

While Vlad rolls his eyes, not even slightly apologetic or willing to admit that throwing fists with teens being his number one past time was arguably pathetic. Danny gestures at the future Vlad, who’s glaring bloody murder at normal timeline floor Vlad, “-but said future you instead assaulted ClockWork”, facepalming and muttering into his hand, “least I know this future you really is you, being enough up his own ass to even consider attempting to do that”, looking back to floor Vlad, “so you used ClockWork’s powers at random and just came back to this timeline?”.

Kwan adds in, “through the ceiling”.

ClockWork smirks, “he got quite lucky in that regard. Not quite luck though”, Danny sighs exasperatedly at ClockWork when they wink with a smirk. Anything involving ClockWork required a lack of luck, not a wealth of it; that, or making a collection of the stupidest decisions you’ve ever made. Considering floor Vlad’s state of looking like an extra for a truly terrible Vampire BDSM film, Danny’s going with the latter.  

Floor Vlad manages to spit out his gag, “well they somehow tossed me out of their body immediately after! I mean the audacity! And this Cheesehead-”, jerkily attempting to nod or point at the scruffy-looking future Vlad, “-gets more pissed and assaults me, ME! Instead of you”.

Future Vlad kicks him and snarls, “it’s been two years in this timeline! TWO! I stopped with the stupid fiddlediddling after six months!”, turning his head to the side and mumbling, “sure everyone close to him had to die first, but that’s a moot point”.

Dash snorts, “why would a ghost even want to assault Fentit. And wait, what? People died?”.

Danny meanwhile, throws his hands out to the side, “of course that happened!”, then gesturing towards ClockWork, “you can’t overshadow ClockWork, that’s not even possible! They literally had to have allowed you to”, actually turning to glare slightly at ClockWork, “why, I haven’t a shot-glass of pennies close to a clue”. Danny then blinks and slowly looks at the future Vlad, his words finally registering; while Danny also simultaneously massacres his last brain cell, “wait....you’re that Vlad? As in the one that technically murdered me? The one that sort of caused the near extinction of humanity and ghosts? The one that basically saw the big red ‘DO NOT PUSH, THIS IS A STUPID IDEA’ button, slammed your fist on it, and activated the apocalypse? The one that stabbed past me when I tried to fix the future? Sure I requested it, but ya still did it”.

Mr. Lancer, who had been progressively going more wide-eyed, “Crime and Punishment?!?!?! I mean, go off I guess”.

While Danny scratches his head nonchalantly, muttering more to himself, “also the one that gave me any faith in past you ever being capable of being good”.

Floor Vlad sputters, wiggling in his bindings like a worm, “how is murdering you what it takes to make you have even an ounce of faith in me?!?”, floor Vlad looks to future Vlad, “you can’t judge me, you fudge-bucket of a hypocrite”.

Danny rolls his eyes and snorts, “that’s not even pot calling kettle black, that’s a wad of chewed gum calling a fork an unchewed stick of gum, and actually expecting that insult to stick”. Danny then squints and turns to ClockWork, “wait”, pointing emphatically at future Vlad, “how does he even exist?!?!? That future was literally destroyed?!?”.

Future Vlad squints at him, looking affronted, “you mean you destroyed my existence too?!?”.

Danny turns to him and waves his hands around wildly, “THAT’S WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU UNRAVEL TEN YEARS OF TIME! THOSE THINGS AND PEOPLE GO POOF!”.

ClockWork sticks up a finger, “that’s not how time works”.

Danny and both Vlads’ turn to them, both Danny and future Vlad pointing aggressively, “YOU STAY OUT OF THIS! THIS DOESN'T CONCERN YOU!”.  

Nathan mutters, “or the rest of the class apparently”.

ClockWork smirks, “pretty sure the author disagrees on that one”. Everyone squints at them but goes back to bickering. Future Vlad points a little aggressively at Danny, “you were just supposed to fix the past! Not obliterate me!”.

Danny throws his hands up, “sacrifices had to be made! That’s what good guys do!”, gesturing at floor Vlad, “plus! You’re still here! And still A CRAZED UP FRUITLOOPY DICK!”.

Floor Vlad, looking a bit insulted, “language my boy”. Danny just looks down at him and knocks one of the desks on him; some kids water bottle -who the heck uses glass water bottles? Seriously?- smashing apart all over his face.  

Future Vlad pinches his nose and gestures at floor Vlad, looking at Danny, “that’s because he hasn’t been horribly traumatised....yet”.

Floor Vlad sputters, “yet?”, before scrunching up his face and licking his cheek, “is this vodka?”.

Future Vlad glares down at him, “you don’t know suffering”, getting into floor Vlad’s face a little and shaking his finger violently, “you don’t know the meaning of the word”, while Danny mutters, “neither do you, by the way”, future Vlad keeps talking, “and you really think you can collect all these stupid cheese curd plots and not turn yourself into curdled milk?”.

Floor Vlad rolls his eyes, “says the murderer”.

Danny rolls his eyes almost in sync with floor Vlad’s eye-roll, “oh like you haven’t killed anyone”.

Mr. Lancer coughs, “um? There are other people here you know. And some of us don’t appreciate casually talking about murder at-”, glancing at his watch, “-nine a.m. in the morning”.

Floor Vlad glances at him, “no one but us and dear Maddie qualify as people”.

Danny sputters incredulously while ClockWork points at floor Vlad, “and that is not how classifications of species and words work”. No one so much as acknowledges the arguably most power-being ever this time.

Floor Vlad looks back to future Vlad, “and Daniel’s the one that messes everything up. Not me!”, glaring at Danny and muttering, “I would have had a perfectly viable clone otherwise”.

Future Vlad shakes his head and gestures aggressively, “you cloned him?!?!?!”, throwing his hands up and walking around, “this me’s insane! Wonderful!”.

Valerie snickers into her hand, “I want to get involved but...”, before gaping and sputtering incoherently to herself about Dani.

Danny snorts, “you hadn’t already figured that out when he decided to abduct and control the body of the dude who controls time itself and oversees everyone’s futures. A literal living legend and basically a god?”, shrugging and sounding nonchalant, “and yeah, technically we have a kid now. My genetics, but Vlad made her. So technically, we’re both her parents”, kicking floor Vlad, “I should sue you for child support”.

ClockWork nods, “and you would win actually”.  

Danny looks tickled green, while floor Vlad shouts dramatically, “WHAT!?!?!?”. Future Vlad is just walking in a circle throwing his hands out randomly and making faces.

Dash mutters, “I can’t believe I’m saying this but, the damn twinks life would make a great soap opera”. ClockWork smirks ever so slightly at this.

Floor Vlad screws up his face and wiggles in the bindings some before squinting at Danny, “wait a biscuit buttering second, how do you even know about the ghost from the clocktower?”, sputtering and squirming, “how do you know their name?!? Even I didn’t! And you know their powers! Daniel what in the name of Gouda?!?”.

Danny deadpans, “oh don’t you use that tone with me, mister. You’re not my father”. While ClockWork smirks, “my name was actually the first thing he said, you just conveniently ignored that for plot purposes”.

Danny just speaks right over them and gestures at ClockWork, “and of course I do! They’re my Time Daddy!”.

Everyone goes silent immediately and you could hear a pin drop. Instead, a different voice breaks the silence, “wow! Didn’t know you had another dad, son!”.

Both halfas and the ex-halfa turn slowly and look at the doorway, where one Jack Fenton is standing and munching on fudge like he’s engrossed in an intense tv show.

Danny blinks and sputters, “how long have you been there?”.

ClockWork smirks, “since almost the beginning of this fic”. Danny glances at them, “that doesn’t make sense”. ClockWork shrugs, “well the audience might appreciate knowing, and I aim to please”.

Danny speaks thick with enough sarcasm to kill a lesser being twice over, and as if to prove this point floor Vlad starts hacking like someone force-fed him nails, “oH yEaH tHiS hAs BeEn A rEeEeEaAaAaLlLlL pLeAsUrE”, before squinting, “...what audience?”.

Star slams her face into her desk, “oh my Zone, seriously?”.

While Jack pipes up, “since Danno repeated vampire Vlad’s story back to everyone with so much disbelief I really couldn’t bring myself to interrupt”, standing and practically throwing the plate of fudge -having forgotten he even had it- when he throws his hands out to the side.

Mr. Lancer sighs and speaks as the fudge slowly smears down the classroom wall, “this was not in my job description, but thanks for the reminder why I don’t moonlight as a babysitter anymore”.

Jack, sounding way too happy for this situation and oddly not looking angry or even bothered, “and I’ve never heard my boy so passionate before!”, tapping his chin and looking at the two Vlads’, “though I do have to say. What the fuck is wrong with you V-man”.

Danny grumbles, “welcome to the life of having a half-ghost, who’s three nuts short of a fruitcake, that wants to aggressively be your uncle and/or father”, before sputtering incoherently over his dad swearing.

Jack tilts his head, looking like a confused puppy, “but, I’m your dad?”, quirking an eyebrow at ClockWork, “one of your dads?”. ClockWork looks like they just got blessed by a god... a god other than themselves anyway.

While Danny stares down at the floor unsure if he should feel deep horror or boyish wonder. Muttering, “did I just result in ClockWork getting adopted into my family through arguably convoluted and highly illogical means?”.  

ClockWork makes a face that is the closest thing to insulted Danny’s actually seen on their face, “it was my belief we were already kin”.

Danny sputters and waves his hands around erratically, trying desperately to back-pedal, “what, I, er, no, I mean yes! Yes! Totally fam!”.

Valerie can’t help but let out her inner gossip rich girl mode, “ooooooooooo, someone’s in trooooouuuubbbbllllleeee”.

Floor Vlad sputters in utter disbelief, it was he that was supposed to be gaining new family members here! Not that oversized puff pastry! “This, that, THIS IS NOT HOW ANY OF THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO GO!”.

Future Vlad blinks at Jack, “why are you not freaking out over the ghosts?”.

Star sighs, “are they really just ignoring that none of us have been freaking out?”.

Jack shrugs, “one’s tied up and the other gave me fudge”. Floor Vlad just shrieks in frustration and disbelief. While Danny gives a dramatic thumbs up to ClockWork, even going so far as to use a little ecto-energy to make his thumb sparkle like some anime bullshit.

Future Vlad kicks floor Vlad but speaks to Jack, “well if it’s anything, I’m not a ghost or half of one”.

Multiple people mutter, “half ghosts are a thing?”, while Valerie grins like a loon.

Floor Vlad shrieking, “WHAT?!?!?!”.

Future Vlad looks down at him but points at Danny, “he ripped out and ate Plasmius”.

Mr. Lancer grimaces and has to physically restrain himself from assaulting Kwan when he actually sticks his hand up and asks, “what’d that taste like? You know, for reasons”. No one’s honestly surprised at this point, when the bickering guys’ just act like the entire class are just extras added in after the main plot was established and without the main casts knowledge.

Danny blinks and gestures wildly at his dad, “are we just ignoring the uniformed third partly?!?”.

Mr. Lancer glares, “the class has been here the entire time”.

ClockWork smirks, “Vlad’s the authors' bitch right now so...yes”.

While floor Vlad gapes at Danny, “YOU DID WHAT NOW?!?!?”.

Danny throws his hands up exaggeratedly, “NOT IN THIS TIMELINE!”. While Vlad just quietly sputters about how Daniel could and even would, apparently, eat him. Danny has to severely resist spewing out a list of vore jokes at this. While ClockWork mutters with a smirk, about how the only reasons Danny’s not doing that is because the author’s tired of their phone crashing every time they try to write them.

Future Vlad points aggressively at floor Vlad, “we were the ones who thought ripping out his humanity would be a good idea!”.

Jack adds in some side commentary, “yeah, please don’t do that to my son”.

Floor Vlad mutters at the floor, “I need some bloody scotch”, before looking up at future Vlad and shouting, “WHY WOULD I DO THAT!”.

ClockWork points at floor Vlad, “the vodka hasn’t totally evaporated off your face yet, so you’ve got options. I have no pity for you”.

Floor Vlad glares at them, “I have standards”.

Half the class saying, “you sure about that?”.

Danny and future Vlad respond to floor Vlad in unison, with matching deadpan tones and judgmental facial expressions, “because, for all accounts and purposes, you are a sociopath”.

ClockWork sticks a finger up, “this is not how psychological diagnosis works”, gesturing at the class, “for one, patient confidentiality is a basic prerequisite, not an option”.

Nathan makes a mocked delighted gasp, “did we just get acknowledged?”. While Danny and future Vlad share a look tm.

Floor Vlad sneers, “rather that over an overgrown oaf, a self-sacrificial fool, a weak old man, or whatever is up with the time ghost”.

Danny glares while future Vlad socks floor Vlad in the face for that. Danny off-handed commenting, “‘Observant puppet’ is really the only insult that applies”, looking at ClockWork, “why aren’t the eyeballs up in a tissy about this anyway?”.

ClockWork smirks, “the author has decided they no longer exist”.

Danny blinks, “what kind of power does this ‘author’ have????”.

ClockWork mutters ominously, “the ability to outrun writers' block...for now”.

Danny ignores ClockWork out of slight horror and feeling like someone’s threatening him with another? dissection fic if he doesn’t stop encouraging ClockWork to derail the plot. Turning his attention to the two Vlads’ just in time to catch Valerie getting up and smacking both Vlads’ over the head, which just turns into an all-out fistfight. Well okay, floor Vlad is just squirming in his bindings and kicking like a feral rabbit, but still.

Valerie steps back and nudges Danny with a wily smirk, “who you wanna bet on to win?”.

Danny snorts, “future Vlad, based on sheer tenacity”.

ClockWork smirks and points a finger at the ceiling, “that’s my bet”, another portal opening up and yet another Vlad falling through and landing on the two others in a heap; knocking all three out, floor Vlad finally transforming back human. Danny looks to them, “the fuck is wrong with you?”.

While Maddie’s voice mutters from the doorway, “oh my Zone, Vlad?!?!”. Standing next to her is yet another interviewer from Genius Magazine: For Women Geniuses, By Women Geniuses; who slowly lifts up her phone and snaps a photo, while patting the pocket where her recorder is.

The next day Danny inexplicably gets pelted in the face -which, coming full circle, predictably stabs him in the eye in the process- by a magazine as soon as he steps through Mr. Lancer’s classroom doorway. Danny just lets it flop onto the floor unceremoniously, due to his veins being clean out of the consciousness juice that was Red Bull and thus incapable of caring about those pesky things called reflexes.

Danny sighs down at the abused magazine while slowly and dramatically covering his right eye. Sighing even louder at the cover somehow making everyone but the Vlads’ look kinda hot and ClockWork just being a black hole with a wicked grin -how they still seemed visually attractive is beyond Danny’s comprehension. The title reading ‘[REDACTED] Ghosts, Time Travel, And Illegal Cloning. Oh My!’, with the wonderful subtitle of ‘What Happens When Science Grows Fangs!’, and the sub-subtitle of ‘See Some Scientific Sin!’.

Danny’s sure the ‘[REDACTED]’ has something to do with ClockWork and them messing with an entire companies autocorrect function, but he decidedly doesn’t want to know.

Wes kicking in the classroom door seconds later only to pelt Danny with yet another copy of the magazine and shriek, “WHY!?!?!?! WHY DO YOU DO THIS TO ME!?!?!?!”.

Danny looks down at the magazine, which magically opened up to the page with the article when it landed, and snorts. It looked like someone had applied ‘[REDACTED]’ on the paper very liberally and with a pepper grinder. Danny then slowly turns and points at Wes with a massive shit-eating grin, “that’s what you get for being weak enough to fall victim to flu season. Sleepy sniffling sleuths earn no secrets”.

At this, the whole class laughs like they’re just a laugh track and an edited in fake audience.

END.

[carryonsimoncarryonbaz]

Whumptober prompts #5,#6, #7 in one fic

5: Gunpoint

6: Dragged away

7. Isolation

I got bogged down and fell behind on whumptober so here is my fic utilizing three prompts in a vain attempt to catch up. Not my best work for sure but here goes!

Baz

The moment Snow heads to the bathroom for a shower Bunce lunges at me, pulling a brightly coloured piece of paper from her pocket and waving it in my face.

I scoot away, until I’m wedged into the corner of their lumpy sofa.  “What is the meaning of this attack, you fright?”

She flaps the paper at me again. “Read this!”

I pluck it from her fingertips and spread it out on my knees. It’s some sort of flyer. One of those god-awful things they have pinned to the bulletin board at the café on campus.

I roll my eyes at her and she knocks her shoulder into mine. “Read it.”

I’ve learned you don’t cross Bunce when she’s like this—reeking of intensity and too much caffeine.

The black print is stark against the orange paper. “PAINTBALL TOURNAMENT” is emblazoned at the top in 72-point font. Overkill, if you ask me. I skim the rest then turn to her. “Yes? Why are you giving this to me?”

“It’s for Simon.”

“Then why the devil aren’t you giving it to him?”

She crosses her arms and levels a glare at me over her glasses. She’s actually quite terrifying when she’s like this. “I’m giving it to you so you can take him there.”

“Why on earth would I take Snow to a paintball tournament?” I peer at the paper again. “With people we don’t even know?”

“So he can shoot things.”

Oh. I suppose there is some sense to that.

“Yes, fine, I get that, but why do I have to take him?” I can think of far better ways to spend an afternoon than crawling around in the dirt with a horde of chavvy wankers with a gun fetish.

Although crawling around in the dirt with Snow does have a certain appeal.

“So you can shoot things together.” She huffs at me. “You’ve said it yourself, Baz. He doesn’t get enough exercise. He used to train all the time. He used to go on missions, run himself ragged on those ridiculous quests the Mage sent him on.” She flops back against the sofa, all the energy gone out of her. “He doesn’t do any of that anymore.”

She’s right. He doesn’t. He’ll go for a run here and there but it’s not so easy with wings and a tail, even spelled invisible. They throw him off pace.

Snow joined a fencing club a few months back, but there’s no one there who can match him. He got bored after just a few weeks.

Much as it pains me to admit, Bunce has a point.

Simon might actually like this. An activity where he can use the skills he honed for years as the Mage’s Heir but not actually have to kill anyone or anything.

It could be good for him.

I suppose we could take the train. I’d rather not get any stray drips of paint on the Jag.

“Fine, Bunce. I’ll see if he wants to go.”

Snow is literally bouncing.  He’s got his camouflage combat suit on, protective body armor all in place, goggles perched on top of his head. His tail is tucked away.

I’ve done an “out of sight, out of mind” on him and made his wings incorporeal. As long as he doesn’t think about them we should be fine. I debate casting a “these aren’t the droids you’re looking for” as well, for good measure, but decide that it’s not quite sporting. He’s already got an unfair advantage over the chunky tossers populating this place.  

And an unfair advantage over me.

All that’s left to do now is choose our weapons and decide on an ammo package.

We’ve been assigned to a random team, since there are only two of us, and thank magic we’re on the same one.

I strap my ammo belt on. I was planning on the standard issue rifle and ammo package but Snow insists I get some high tech, stealth sniper rifle. “You’ve not done this before, Baz.”

“Neither have you, you nightmare.”

Snow scoffs. “Yeah, but I’ve played video games for years.” He steps closer and zips my suit all the way up, fingers resting on my chest for a moment. “Trust me. You’d rather be behind the line with the long-range weapon.” He leans in, words barely above a whisper. “With your eyesight and reflexes you’ll be fucking lethal with this.”

I do what he says. There is no way I can argue with Snow when he looks at me like that.

He gets the top of the line rifle and enough ammunition to supply a small army. Which I suppose is exactly what he is.

It ends up being far more entertaining than I anticipated. Snow’s right, I prefer a position a bit back from the fray, out of the direct line of fire, so I can pick off my opponents one by one from there.

He thinks I’m being strategic. Only if my strategy is getting as good a look at Simon Snow in action as I can.

Unlike Bunce, I’ve rarely gotten to see Snow in his element, when he’s relying on the pure power of his body and the instincts that have been honed in him. He’s powerful. He’s lethal.

He’s fucking breathtaking.

And I will take down every arsehole that even tries to take a shot at him.

My ammunition is soon running low and I belatedly curse myself for not listening to Snow. No matter. I wedge myself behind a bunker and peer through a crack, rifle at ready. I can watch Snow to my heart’s content like this. No one’s going to make an effort to ferret me out here. I’ve got the drop on them from my vantage point.

Snow is mesmerizing. He’s halfway across the battle ground now, yelling as he advances on the enemy forces, spraying them liberally with yellow paint. Kill shot after kill shot.

He’s a one-man platoon, on berserker mode.

It’s brilliant.

There are two enemy combatants advancing on him now, left and right, using the meagre hedges and undulations of the ground to cover their progress. I wonder why they haven’t sent a volley of paint at him yet.

I pick off the one on the left first, since he’s closer to Snow, and then turn my sights on the bloke on the right. I hit him too. Kill shots both.

But they don’t stop advancing.

According to rules they both should be out of play now. I reload and hit them again for good measure.

They don’t stop.

There’s something sinister in their stalking of Snow, even if he has decimated their ranks single-handedly. They should be shooting at him, not tracking him in this way.

I’m leaping over the bunker and racing across the no man’s land in an instant, eyes on Snow.

They tackle him from behind, which is clearly a violation of rule number three.

I’m not going to get to him in time. I don’t know what’s going on, but these two are a different sort than the regular paintball denizens we’ve run into so far.

They’re tall, lithe, faster than I would expect as they lunge forward and tackle Snow to the ground.

He’s not going down easy. Snow lands punches on them both, feet flailing as he kicks the legs out from under one of them and knocks his head into the other’s chest.

I’m almost to him when I feel a thud against my back. Some sodding git has nailed me with a paintball. And then another hits me. The abruptness of it catches me off guard and I stumble on a rock, going down in a heap. I’m back on my feet in an instant but I’m already too late.

The two blokes have a hold of Snow and they are dragging him into a forbidding two story structure with no windows on the far edge of the field. He’s not fighting back.

They’re moving far faster than any Normal should.

One looks back at me and gives me a smirk. A blood-red grin from a green-cast face.

Fuck.

Goblins.

Simon

My head’s throbbing when my eyes blink open. Fuck, it hurts. I try to reach up to rub my head but my hands are tied behind my back.

It all comes back to me. My mad rush across the field, the ambush.

Fucking Goblins. I don’t know why they can’t have an election or a hereditary monarchy or a parliamentary procedure instead of this fucking arbitrary method of choosing a king centered on who kills me.

That’s no basis for a system of government.

These two are grinning at me from across the room, smooth green skin, blood red lips. Fit and feral, the bastards. They finally figured out that it would take more than one of them to bring me down.

Took them long enough.

I wonder where Baz is. I’m sure he’s gone completely feral himself, if he witnessed them ambushing me.

It’s Penny and Baz’s biggest fear, that I’d be waylaid by murderous magical creatures someday when I was alone.

Well I wasn’t alone, it was in broad fucking daylight, and in a public place, for Merlin’s sake.  A damn paintball venue, of all things. Proves my point, really. Baz and Penny can’t protect me every minute of every day, even if they’re right there with me. I have to be able to fend for myself. Like I always did before.

Just without magic this time.

The taller of the two saunters across the room. “Finally got you, Mage’s Heir.”

“Yeah, well, hope you two have it figured out which one of you gets the crown.”

Goblins may be fit and fast but they aren’t the smartest, not as far as thinking things through. They’d have had me years ago if they’d been savvy enough to stop trying to get me one on one.

If I can keep them talking, stall for time, that should give Baz a chance to find his way to me.

If anyone can hunt me down it’s him.

I doubt they’d kill me here, anyway. I’m sure they have to do it in front of some formal tribunal, to prove it’s actually me and that I’m actually dead. I mean, that’s what would make sense, from a political standpoint, but who knows with this lot.

Seems to be working, from the frowns on their faces. “Hadn’t thought of that, had you?” I say, bold enough to rub it in a bit, now that I know I’ve got them thinking.

That earns me a kick from the shorter goblin. “Shut your mouth, Chosen One.”

They retreat to a corner of the room and start bickering. Maybe they’ll kill each other off and do Baz’s work for him.

I’d not mind.

I think this is the structure at the far end of the battle field. I’d seen it and assumed it was a storage facility of some kind.

It is.

There are two lawnmowers and a small tractor. Rolled up fencing. A stack of wood in the far corner. Field maintenance it seems. I take stock, to see what might be useful as a weapon. The shovels and rakes appear to be the most promising.

The building is about two stories high but there’s only the one floor and then a little loft on the far side, with a ladder leading up to it. I can’t see if there’s anything up there from here. It’s dark and dim, just a few lights shining weakly high up in the rafters.

There are no windows. Just a door. A solid one.

The Goblins seem to have reached some sort of agreement. One leans against the wall and the other comes my way. “Get up.”

I don’t.

I’m not going to make it easy on them. I may be tied up but that doesn’t mean I have to be obedient. They’ll have to carry me if they want to take me anywhere. I’m not tall but I’m solid. I can make it difficult if I choose.

I do choose.

It takes both of them to get me across the space to the ladder. I’m kicking and flailing, shouting at them too, just in case Baz is near enough to hear me. He won’t even have to be that close, with his hearing, but I roar at them anyway. Makes me feel better, it does.

I’m not going to lie, I’m right furious these two got the drop on me. I let my guard down, thinking it was just Normals here.

Won’t be making that mistake again.

They finally drag me up the ladder, thumping me on every step as they take me up. I’m going to have bruises all over by then end of this.

It’s a small space, filled with boxes of paint balls, labeled by size and color. They shift two of the boxes and wedge me between them, tightening the ropes on my hands again and tying my feet now for good measure.

They have gotten smarter.

Arseholes.

One leans down, all gleaming red smile  again. “We’ll be back, Mageling. Can’t drag you out the front gate of this place in broad daylight but it’ll be dark soon enough.” His grin is all sharp teeth and cherry red lips. “Once they’re all gone Nigel will bring the car around and we’ll have you right where we want you.”

The other one chimes in. “You’ve had a good run. And now you’re running days are over.” They’re giving me matching smiles now, all cocky, thinking they’ve got me cornered.

They do but I’m not going down without a fight. They’ve given me their plan, so now I know what to expect. No subtlety at all.

The short one—Nigel, I suppose—checks his watch. It looks like a fucking Rolex. I don’t understand goblins, I really don’t.

“Come along, Terry,” he says. “We’ve got to get out of here before they do a sweep of the property for the night and put the gear back in here.” He smirks at me. “We’ll be back after sundown for you.”

They go down the ladder. I hear a door click and then I’m alone.

I scoot forward as far as I can, without getting too close to the edge. I wonder why they store the paint up here, rather than down of the main level. I’ll probably never know.

I give my hands an experimental wiggle but the ropes are tight. I try to twist my fingers to find the knots but I’ll give the goblins this—they know how to truss you up good and proper. I won’t be getting myself out of these rope shackles anytime soon.

I end up thinking about the spells I could have used when I had magic.

“Cutting the Gordian knot” is tricky—Alexander the Great may have cut an actual knot but most people use that spell for solving a conundrum, not an actual knot in a rope.  

“Gotta help our Cinderelly,” would have brought out every rat and field mouse in the place, although I’m not sure I could have had them gnaw the ropes willingly.

Who am I kidding? Those spells would have never worked for me. Too complicated.

I’d have just called the Sword of Mages and sawed the ropes against the blade until I could break the strands.

Or I would have just gone off. Reduced the whole building to splinters.

I miss magic. I miss it with my heart and soul. I miss it so much I can taste it—the smoke and burning that used to come over me when I’d use it.

But I was never any good at it, was I?

I can’t let myself think about that. Not right now.

Not when I’m stuck here, with no way out and no idea where Baz is.

Fuck. I wonder if this is what Agatha used to feel like?

Bloody useless. I hate it.

Bet she did too.

Baz

I’ve been circling the building, trying to find a way in. There’s only the one door.  I pull on the knob, rattle the hinges but I can’t rip it away, even with my vampire strength. I don’t know what they’ve done to it, the bastards, but it won’t budge. Goblins don’t have much magic but they do fucking have the market on making doorways do their bidding.

Even “open sesame” fails me.  Fucking hell.

There’s not a window, not a crack in the foundations. Nothing.

I’m losing my mind. I heard Simon shout. I heard his voice through the solid walls of this god-forsaken structure. Why the fuck do you need an impenetrable fortress at a sodding paintball club?

My fangs have popped, my fists are clenched. I’m going to rip these bastards limb from limb.

Simon has to still be alive. There’s no way they’d go to their tribunal or whatever the fuck they call it without proof they’d captured him. Without proof they’d killed him.

I’m circling around again, looking for anything I might have missed my first time around when the goblins come out the fucking door a few feet away from me, all glamoured to look like members of fucking Duran Duran instead of their disgusting green selves—all big hair and frosted waves, eyeliner on point. It’s not a good look with the camouflage jumpsuits.

I’m on them before they even see me, silent and deadly. I knock into the taller one—he looks just like John Taylor—shifting him off balance. He bumps into the shorter one—more of a Nick Rhodes look on him—and then turns on me with a snarl.

I’m ready for him.

I snap his neck before he can even take a step.

The Nick Rhodes look-alike takes a step back, looks like he’s ready to run for it but I’m on him before he has the chance.

“Where is he?”

“Where’s who?”

“Don’t fuck with me. Where’s Simon?”

He tries to claw at me. Goblins have long, elegantly manicured nails but you’ll get a nasty rash if they scratch you. My hand goes up lightning fast and I catch his wrist. I bend it back until the bone snaps and he howls. 

I mutter a “Silence is golden.” No good having anyone hear us. I can handle one goblin on my own and I don’t want an audience.

I’m not well versed in the memory spells the Coven uses on Normals that inadvertently witness displays of magic. Or the one my father uses on Vera from time to time.

Less seen the better then.

I make quick work of this goblin too, snapping his head with a twist. He goes limp and falls to the ground. I cast a “into thin air” on the corpses and rush to the door. “Open sesame” works this time, since they’re both dead and their magic has died with them.

I rush inside, scanning around the room for Simon. I hear a shout from above and I spot him, trussed up but grinning at the sight of me, on some sort of landing up a ladder.  

I’m up it in an instant, casting “like a knife through butter” to shear through his bonds with my wand.

I’ve got my arms around him an instant later. “You bloody bastard. You courageous fuck. I told you it would be the bloody goblins, I told you those arseholes would never rest.”

Snow leans into me, head on my shoulder. It takes me a minute to realize he’s laughing. “Are you all right, Simon?” I catch his face between my hands and stare into his eyes.

He’s still smiling. “What are you laughing about, you nightmare? You could have been killed.”

“I can’t believe I didn’t think of that spell,” Snow says. “I was sitting here, waiting for you to finally show up, you jammy bastard, trying to remember what spells would work to cut ropes. ’Like a knife through butter.’ You’d think, of all the spells, I’d remember that one.”

I rub my thumb on his cheekbone and shake my head. “You’d think.” I press a kiss to his forehead and then stand up, pulling him up with me.

Last time I listen to Bunce. Take him for paintball, she said. It’ll be good for him, she said. Bloody hell.

But when I look at Simon I know she was right, fucking Goblins and all.

He’s sweaty and bruised, with a lump on the side of his head, but his smile is wide, wider than it’s been in weeks.

[pi-cat000]

Whumptober No. 15 & 16: Scars & Pinned Down

Fandom: Mystery Skulls Animated

Characters: Arthur, Lewis, Mystery

Summary: A year after Lewis returns the gang investigate a strange house. (PART 4)

(PART 1), (PART 2) (PART 3)

NOTE: Kind of follows the prompts but not really. Like, maybe if u squint. 

.

“…Save Vivi.”

For his last words, they’re pretty good. This is Arthur's final coherent thought before the world dissolves in a burst of blinding light. It doesn't hurt. One second he is alive, investigating a case, and the next second he’s not. Simple as that.

Arthur is not quite sure what happens after. All he knows is that, at some point, he gains enough coherency to start noticing the dark nothingness around him. With a growing sense of self, he begins to actively observe his environment. There is nothing to observe, but he still tries.

Eventually, Arthur begins to wonder. 

'Is this it?' His question goes unanswered.  

Is everything just going to be dark nothing from now on? Is it going to be nothing for the rest of eternity?

It is a rather grim prospect. Was death supposed to be like this? All he has as a frame of reference is Lewis and it’s not like he has ever asked Lewis what dying was like. Their relationship was strained enough as it was. No need to throw fuel on the proverbial and, in Lewis’s case, literal fire.

Maybe he should have asked…Maybe he should have tried harder to reconnect. But, it’d been hard. Some scars took longer to heal than others…like a lot longer. Mutually, he and Lewis had decided to take it slow, understanding that rebuilding their friendship after all the hurt and misunderstanding would be a slow process. In amongst all the healing and finding a new way of existing around each other, they’d started to grow close again. And then Arthur had gone and died like an idiot, leaving both Vivi and Lewis behind.

Well, he hopes he left them behind and they aren’t all dead, floating around in their own personal voids. He really hopes Vivi isn’t dead. He really hopes Lewis is still with her. He desperately wants them to be happy together.

The longer Arthur spends thinking, the greater his want to see them okay and happy becomes. With nothing else to occupy his thoughts, the want soon turns into a need. A burning, desperate need. The need consumes him, eating him inside out. Never has he wanted anything so badly. Not even when he was searching for Lewis and losing night upon night of sleep to nightmares, had he felt this powerfully. Slowly, a pressure builds, growing stronger, feeding into his longing.

Arthur finds that he isn’t as okay with death as he had initially thought.

This can’t be it. He won’t accept it.

Just when Arthur thinks he might collapse into himself, crushed by his unattainable desire like a star going supernova, he explodes outward. The darkness is dispersed, evaporating into a white haze.

....

..

.

“What the…Hey…Ah…”

Arthur hears a familiar voice.

“Mystery! Arthur’s star is glowing!”

That’s Lewis. Arthur latches onto the sound, following it further into the light.

“What do I do? You said this would take another week!”

IT’S LEWIS! He still can’t see properly, everything is blurred, but that is definitely Lewis’s voice. Arthur struggles so respond, becoming increasingly frustrated when sound fails to produce itself.

/That was a rough estimation at best. Quick, stand back. /

The second voice is deeper and directionless, coming to Arthur from all angles. Mystery, he recognises, before listening intently for Lewis again.

“Wait! We can’t do this here! Not after we wrecked the last room…/

/There is not much we can do about it, unfortunately. I am sure Vivi will understand./

Vivi? Did Mystery just say Vivi? In a ripple of brilliant light, not unlike the blast which had killed him in the first place, Arthur explodes into being. Instantaneously, he goes from disembodied nothingness to occupying space. Accompanying his materialisation is shockwave of yellow energy. There is the sound of furniture scraping along a wooden floor and the crash of objects falling to the ground. Arthur pays the chaos no mind, twisting around, trying to locate his friend.

“Lewis…” He says, spotting the familiar figure. Lewis is human in appearance, wearing his purple vest and grey pants. He seems surprised, ruffled by the explosion, staring right at Arthur.

Arthur, he doesn’t even notice himself move, appears right in front of Lewis with a barely audible pop of displaced air. Smack, he runs into Lewis, pushing them both back. For that second, knowing that Lewis right here, touching him, is all that matters. 

A hand lands on his shoulder, gently inching him back. Arthur can feel the heat of Lewis’s aura and the echo of muted emotion. There is a hit of concern underpinning deeper burning anger which seems to be the source of the heat. He would be afraid, but the anger isn’t directed at him. Weird...but nice...

“You’re okay,” He whispers. His voice is a bit distorted, echoy, but it’s nothing he hasn’t grown used to hearing from Lewis before the ghost had figured out how to change it.

Then his brain catches up to his emotions, and he realises what he may have implied. “I mean, you’re dead, obviously, but you’re here. I’m sorry, I mean, I’m happy you’re still here. I’m not happy you’re dead…ugh...”

Shit. This is a disaster. He tries to step back but can’t because he isn’t actually on the ground. He is floating. Lewis probably hates him all over again! No, that was an overaction. They’d already sorted that stuff out... Why is he having trouble thinking?

“Where Vivi’s?” He asks instead, flailing around, trying to regain his balance. As he asks, he turns to the door. Is Vivi through that door? He needs to see Vivi. He needs to see her right now!

/Stop him!/

Arthur hears Mystery’s order while also registering the fact that he is now standing by the door with Lewis behind him. Did he just teleport? A hand catches his shoulder and Arthur spins, lashing out, disoriented by the change of location.

“Arthur calm down. You’re…”

A wave of that yellow energy forces both him and his assailant, which turns out to be Lewis, away from each other in a violent pulse. Arthur bumps back into the door and Lewis stumbles, floating a few feet up into the air to stop himself from tripping over the bed at the centre of the room.

“Sorry!” He panics, “I’m sorry. I need to find Vivi.” 

After spending all that time thinking about seeing Lewis and Vivi, it has become all he wants. Before he makes good on this declaration there is a spark of red and Mystery is no longer dog. All Arthur has time to do is think ‘danger! That’s dangerous!’ and Mystery’s many tailed form is on top of him. The weight of the Kitsune pins him to the floor.

/My apologies Arthur, but it is probably best that you do not go tearing through the middle of town in broad daylight./

“What…no, I won’t…I just need to find Vivi,” He tries to escape, wriggling to get free. However, Mystery’s weight isn’t entirely physical so the effort just leaves him drained.

Lewis, he is a skeleton now with flames burning a radiant purple, drifts forward to examine Arthur. Arthur quietens, gawking. Did Lewis always burn that brightly…The colour is kind of mesmerising.

Lewis gives him a funny look, “What’s wrong with him?”

/New ghosts are erratic with a one-track thought process, as I am sure you know./

/I suggest you find Vivi. Hopefully, seeing the two of you together will calm him down enough so that we might have a rational conversation./

“Yeah, okay…” Lewis, shifts back to human, grimacing. Arthur’s kind of sad to see the flames go.

“She’ll be happy to know he’s up at any rate.”

. 

If you want to know more about this challenge I have an intro here

Completed Prompts: Shaky Hands, Explosion, Delirium, Human Shield, Gunpoint & Dragged away, Isolation, Stab Wound, Unconscious & Shackled, Stitches, ‘Don’t Move,’ Adrenaline, Tear Stained

[wheremytwinwatches]

[Where My Twin Watches]: Full Metal Alchemist Brotherhood Episode 44

Last time: Doctor Marcoh broke the Hippocratic Oath, Envy chose the worst possible host, and a Central Officer showed Armstrong the Great his collection of action figures. Onwards!

Episode 44 - “Revving at Full Throttle” Oh heck yeah, we’re starting at the family reunion in Liore! Camera shows the radio fixed by the Elric Brothers way back when. [Beard]: “It’s been a long time, huh Al?” [Al]: “Yeah.” *awkwardness intensifies* [Beard]: “So, uh… I saw Pinako recently.” *Rose is standing off to the side, probably wondering about this ‘Pinako’ character her new boyfriend is talking about* [Beard]: “She told me about your body.” *awkwardness intensifies* *awkwardness intensifies* *awkwardness intensifies* [Villagers]: “Hey Mister Ho, could you-” [Beard]: “Oh sweet Leto yes get me out of this family drama. Absentee Anime Father, away!” Wow, really? Al are you just gonna let him walk away from this conversation? You haven’t seen him for a large portion, if not most of your life! Demand some friggin answers! Well at least the cook is trying to cheer Al up, thanking him for fixing up the radio. Al apologizes for the riot being caused by them exposing Cornello, but Cookie insists on looking at the good stuff that happened.

Sure people reacted “badly” at first, but now everyone’s all happily working together to rebuild from the ashes of their home! Can’t fault the man’s optimism. Inspired!Al goes running off to help build, seeing their General getting his hands dirty Toad and Boar (still wearing their winter clothes?) tag along, dragging a protesting Yoki with them. The Villagers are realizing Oh Crap We Interrupted Family Reunion, but Beard’s brushing it off. He left when Al was super young, he probably doesn’t even think of Beard as his father anymore. And have you seen the guy try to smalltalk? He doesn’t know what to say- [Al, clanking towards the group]: “Hey pops! Imma help with the building, cool? Cool. Hey NPCs, gimme that heavy stuff to cart around.” Aw, Beard gets to see that Al being trapped in a cold, unfeeling suit of armor hasn’t kept him from being a decent person. Whoa okay bath time for Winry, apologies for interrupting. Winry’s happy to finally get a good bath after traveling for so long. Rose is chatting with her while laying out clothes, admiring Winry for being a independent Automail Engineer at her age. And she was the one who literally got Ed back on his feet, which would mean later he would help Rose get back on hers. *Goes back to Ep 3 Recap*. That’s right, he told her to Keep Moving Forward, that she needed to use her two good legs to make her own path. Rose tells Winry about her misplaced belief in Cornello, when Winry gripes about Ed’s Tough Love routine Rose says that’s just his way of being nice. [Rose]: “But you already know that, don’t you?” [Winry]: *Stammers, blushes, and tries to hide her face in her tea.* So yeah, Ed exposed the truth behind Cornello’s miracles, and now Liore is learning to stand on its own. “All thanks to Ed and Al.”... yeah, calling it now. We’ll come back to this place in a decade or two, and the old Church of Leto will have been replaced with one to The Armor and the Alchemist. Hey, it’s Lizard dude! Bido, according to Bag of Magic Food. He’s going through a tunnel, griping that it was a bad idea to follow those MPs aw crap he’s wandering into Uncle’s sanctum, isn’t he? Turn around dude! But he’s still looking for Mister Greed, squeezes through some pipes to crap it’s the Golem Room. And are the Officer and Armstrong the Great still there? Quick, pull an Igor!

Ok, so it looks like he got there just before the Officer did his “Look at my cool toys” reveal, he’s hiding behind the pipes again. Officer’s explaining that the Golems are empty dummies that they can bond souls to. Oh, so they’re like Advanced Soul Armors, then? Tell me, have you gotten around the problem that Al’s having of the body rejecting the soul? Anyways, the Golems are immortal and apparently any bonded souls will be completely obedient. Alright Armstrong the Great, here’s the kicker; where do the souls to activate the Golems come from? Officer says that they’ll come from rival nations, “through the course of war”. Hoo boy. This was what I was afraid of way back when the concept of Philosopher Stones was introduced to Armstrong the Great. She is fiercely loyal to her troops and those she chooses to protect, it was the threat against her own forces and the reveal that the Goths were going to harvest the entire country that allied her with our main characters. But an army fueled by the conquest of Others? A chance to not just defeat her hated Drachman enemies, but fully convert them to her cause? Weapons that only grow stronger the more she uses them? I mean, with all the pushing around by Central and bullying of her troops I’m giving her 80% odds to still reject the Golems. But that remaining 20… We don’t get to hear any more as Bido freaks the fuck out and bolts back down the tunnels, screaming his head off. [Bido]: “This place is evil! Pure evil! Why did I ever come here?! Mister Greed would never be in an awful place like this-” Oh hey, it’s Ling! How’s Greed going to react to seeing an old “possession”: happy to see something of old that he gets to claim again, or annoyed that one of his old crew fled rather than try to help him? We’ll get back to that, we’re back in Liore where Al is warning Beard about the giant tunnel running under Liore. Beard tells him to stop talking about the Super Secret Goth Plot To Harvest A Country in the middle of the town square, waits until they’re in the ruins of the Church to discuss the story. He’s letting Al explain everything, does he want to keep his own involvement secret for- well never mind, Al’s brought up his Identical Brother chilling in Central. Beard turns away still acting all Mysterious wait what [Menacing!Beard]: “Did it ever cross your mind that I might be on their side?” But you’re not, unless… NOW HOLD UP. If you’re telling me that we’re looking at a Triplet situation, that Uncle made another copy to Oh ok I get it now. Beard is just emphasizing how trusting Al is, at least with him. But seriously dude, now that I’m thinking about it spilling your entire plan to a guy because you think he’s your father is a terrible idea. Maybe ask him to repeat a childhood memory, or somesuch? So after Al gets his non-corporeal heart to calm down from that scare, Beard says that he wants to tell his Backstory to both brothers in order to save time. Right, about that… Back up in the land of snow, at… “Bank’s Bank”? Really? That’s like a restaurant owned by Mister Burger or a law office run by Johnny Litigator. Whatever. Registers are ringing and checks are being cashed when huh. Sorry, just distracted by the banker’s appearance, she’s a lady with blonde hair but brown eyes and Ishvalan skin. What’s her story, is she an Amestrian/Ishvalan child like Sideburns? Moving on, a giant of a man is making a withdrawal oh hey it’s Monkey, he’s drawing from Ed’s account. Uh, are you that badly strapped for cash? You know that a withdrawal from the Protagonist’s account, by an unknown party no less, is going to raise all kinds of flags in Central. Yup, Monkey got the cash from Ed’s research account, but another banker’s already making a call. Ah, so it was for the medical bill. How much was this doctor charging? Oh jeez, the guy’s chuckling and saying he could charge them even more, Monkey complains that he’s already ripping them off but the doc’s likewise squinty-eyed wife says it’s only “reasonable” considering the risks involved.

Well, as long as they keep their mouths shut well never mind, looks like the cops are already on to them. I don’t suppose they can get a refund? The cops show up and push past the doctor, Lion’s getting bandaged by Mrs. Doctor. Oh great way to sell out the resting patient, our guys had better get a refund if he’s going to cave this quickly. No wait it’s just Monkey scowling from under some covers wait is he trying to hide Ed under the sheets? The cop asks if Monkey was at the bank earlier, and pulls a gun… Outside a guard hears someone walking, another white coat? Doctor #2? Cop #1 is ordering for Monkey to put his hands up oh hey the white coat outside is Ed with some groceries! Outfit change? I suppose his red coat was pretty distinctive. While Monkey’s at gunpoint Lion readies his own pistol and Monkey starts drawing his own gun, things might get loud pretty soon. Wait, is Ed’s hair loose? What happened to the ponytail?

Ok yeah, that was pretty distinctive like his coat. Outside guard is listing off the red coat, blond hair worn in a braid… uh oh. Here it comes. [Guard]: “... and short.” [Ed]: *bites through wooden skewer in annoyance* Nice knowing you, guard. The cops in the apartment hear a thud, and #1 tells another to check out the noise. Outside Guard is out cold, Cop #2 tries waking him up before there’s another thud, #1’s left yelling at the other two for answers when

Wait hold on, is Ed grabbing this guy around the neck? Is he standing on a box or something? Unless… no. No! Is it finally happening? Is my little boy finally getting a growth spurt?! … Wait, but if he’s growing taller, but has an artificial leg whoops better find Winry quick to upgrade, fighting might be a bit difficult if you’re all lopsided. Monkey snarks that Ed just had to take out three MPs on his own, when he hasn’t fully recovered yet. [Ed]: “Don’t treat me like an invalid. My injuries are fully healed, and I’m revving at full throttle!” Title drop! And damn but Ed’s rocking the new look. White coat, loose hair, and a growth spurt? Leg imbalance aside, I am totally down for this. Wait, is this because he “used his own life force” to patch himself up earlier? His body aged up from the energy expenditure? Cool! Mid-ep pictures of Bath!Winry and Older!Ed. So is carrying a wooden skewer in your mouth just a thing now, Ed? The doc’s telling Ed and the Chimeras to shove off, doesn’t look like that refund’s coming after all. Ed snags the Guard’s note in passing, thinking about how they’re just looking for the red coat and braid (pointedly ignoring the “short” comment), guess the outfit change is staying around for a while. Whoops! Took too long, some other MPs have shown up and are demanding they freeze. Wait, “move it kid”? Oh yeah, they’re just telling the guys with visible weapons to stand down, they think that the kid chowing down on bread is a bystander. Who just got grabbed by Monkey and threatened with a weapon! Monkey uses the MPs shock at the hostage-taking to tuck Ed under his arm and run for it, outside some more MPs spot them but Lion shoots some snow down on them. Run for it! One hotwired car later, Ed tells ‘Gorilla’ (“Don’t call me that!”) to step on it, but their stolen car isn’t fast enough to outrun vehicles from Northern Command. Dodge a truck so the MPs crash into it? That they… can’t do, actually. The MPs are catching up when Ed says to turn a corner and park. Plan? Transmutation sounds as they round the corner, the MPs follow but… it’s gone? Wait there’s another car in the road, but… … Ow. Ow ow ow. OW! Sweet Leto, but that hurts the eyes. Really, Ed? I can only assume that the MPs brains have shut off from the sheer garishness of that thing, they drive past the parked car looking for something a little more sensible. The Chimeras immediately ask for the car to be turned back to normal. [Ed]: “And why’s that? I think this car looks cool as hell!” [Monkey]: “Just change it back. Please, we’re begging you!” [Ed]: “You guys got a problem with my sense of style?!” [Monkey/Lion]: “You don’t have any!” Outside of town, Monkey’s answering the call of nature while they all discuss being drifters again. Ed’s wait buddy you’ve got your hair back in a ponytail, it’s not a full-on braid but it’s still close enough that any guards are going to give you a second look. Go back to the loose hair disguise! Ed’s thinking about how he let his guard down around Kimblee, and hoping that Al’s ok. For now, the Chimeras are asking their new boss where to go, Ed says that they need to find Al who’s probably with Marcoh now. [Lion]: “You do know how to find them, right?” [Ed]: “Right, about that…” In Liore, Al’s trying to wrap his head around Beard’s Backstory. Beard understands if Al doesn’t believe him, it’s a pretty crazy story. Then we remember that Beard’s talking to a soul bound to a suit of armor, so the idea that Beard is a Philosopher’s Stone isn’t that far fetched. They chat about being immortal, and thankfully Beard acknowledges the advantages of his form before settling on the fact that seeing everyone he knows and loves wither and perish sucks. Hey yeah, if you have a Philosopher's Stone body, did that affect Ed and Al’s development? Apparently not, Beard says he still has a human body. Unlike Uncle, who’s likened to “a leather bag”. He built a human body around himself and his gathered souls, so if they can destroy the body… Speaking of, the Nationwide TC! Beard looks over the TC and reverse-TC while Al says they can destroy the tunnel below Liore, but Beard shuts down the idea. Pride’s watching over the tunnel. But can they still try before nope we know the tunnel’s finished, and Beard is rather relaxed about the idea it’s complete. “Because it’s not yet time”? How do you know? [Beard]: “Look up, son. You’re too busy looking down when you need to look up.” Oh! I get it, it’s a constellation thing! That explains why the Xerxes King was talking about carving all the Crests before it was too late, the Nationwide TC needs the right positioning of the stars. Can’t do it until then.

Yes please follow along Al, look up to the sky, to… LETO! Bwahaha, Al thinks that Beard’s talking about Sun-God Leto. There we go, turns out Beard has converted to Letoism and plans on praying the Goths away. Or the Man in Central could indeed be waiting for the right star positions, that works too I guess. Oh hey, back to Bido in the pipes. Running? Oh shoot, looks like it was “Annoyed his possession abandoned him” Greed after all. Greed laughs about the chance to kill his boredom, Bido’s shocked to see the Ultimate Shield and hear the voice, yells at Greed for imitating Mister Greed. Wait, does Greed not recognize Bido? Greed boasts about wanting everything, Bido finishes his spiel about demanding the finer things in life. Greed asks who Bido is wait static? Ok, so Greed really doesn’t remember his past iteration? He lost his memories when Uncle reconsumed him? Bido’s struggling to reconcile the Mister Greed he knew with this new guy, while Greed demands Bido answer his questions. [Bido]: “It’s me! I’m your friend, Bido! You haven’t been gone from Dublith long enough to forget!” [Greed]: “Oh, you’re from Dublith! Ooohoho, now it makes sense!” [Bido]: “You remember m SHIT Greed just stabbed Bido! [Greed]: “Afraid not. You must have been buddies with the previous Greed.” Well this sucks, Bido’s trembling in pain and grief while Greed says they’ve never even met wait the static’s back and his arm is trembling and the static is becoming visions of Greed’s old crew. Is his memory returning? Hoo boy Ling’s calling Greed out for killing his old friend. Greed protests that Bido wasn’t his friend, that those memories belonged to the previous Greed. [Ling]: “Then why are you in so much pain?!” Ling’s threatening that if Greed doesn’t pull himself together that he’ll take control of the body again. Greeds gritting out that his old memories were purged by Uncle, that they aren’t part of him anymore- [Ling]: “No, you’re wrong Greed! It’s not that easy! They’ll always be a part of you! You can’t just erase them from your soul! They were the only part of you that you chose! Look at them! Can you not hear their souls crying out? You abandoned them, your real family! You threw them away like trash! Fool, you turned your back on something you wanted. You don’t deserve to call yourself Greed!” Clutching the still form of Bido, Greed screams. End Credits. Post-credit scene in Central at the Bradley Manor, Mama Bradley is suggesting a book to Selim. About an adventurer who travels the world- Bradley’s looked up and Mama Bradley grabbed Selim at the sound of rustling and footsteps. It’s Greed. And he’s not happy.

[creative-frequency]

Destcember2019: A Long Shadow

Word count: 2101 Characters: Guardian!Uldren Sov & Pulled Pork, OC Maeve Vael (Awoken Titan) & Marshmallow Notes: Inspired by the Amnestia-S2 lore in Dawning. This one wouldn’t have happened without @glistoi​. Or without @destcember​.

My Writing Masterlist

“The Dawning welcomes everyone.” –Eva Levante

Well into the night, the distant gunfire has fallen silent. The Guardian is settled for some restless slumber. Another day spent in solitude, thankfully without conflict. The days are getting shorter and colder with each cool breeze.

His Ghost hovers by, idly making rounds inside the rusted-out shipping container. In a certain point of his loop, his shell catches the dim starlight through a hole on the roof and glints purple. It’s eerily quiet, for now.

The Ghost stops.

“Hey, are you asleep?” He floats close to his Guardian’s face. Two orbs of washed orange shade shimmer in the darkness.

“Not anymore.”

“Someone is sending a distress call across all channels,” the Ghost says, not even mildly catching the Guardian’s interest, “But the signal is terrible.”

The Guardian’s brow furrows. He doesn’t want anything to do with anyone sending distress calls at this hour. A Guardian or not.

“It’s close by.”

The Ghost snaps the audio feed on and the crate is blasted with crackling sounds of combat. Half of the audio is just static buzz.

“Anyone… … … there’s… help… … Can anyone–”

“Turn it off!”

The Guardian is holding his head and the sudden silence pangs in his ears.

“Sorry.”

He looks up. “You don’t have to apologize.”

“Are we going to help her?” the Ghost asks politely with no trace of an opinion. It makes the question sound worse than an outright plea.

There isn’t much humanity left inside that container, but the lingering bits of it are gnawing hard at the Guardian’s conscience. He doesn’t know why he was resurrected. That question haunts him every day, but does he have the right to doom someone else to lose that? Never. Be it a curse or a gift, he can be no judge on another Guardian’s life.

He hesitates and looks up at his Ghost.

“Can you pinpoint the location?”

“Yes, but we need to find an entrance. They’re underground.”

“Best get going then.”

Not many Guardians tread so far off the main pathways in these parts. There’s nothing but Fallen and the dark lairs they avidly defend to their last breath.

The Guardian is used to sticking to the shadows, sneaking past the packs of bloodthirsty Dregs that lurk behind every rock and tree. He rarely has to kill them, which is one of the reasons he hasn’t used a firearm in actual combat in a long time.

“Over there.” The Guardian nods towards a trail of broken Fallen bodies that leads into the abandoned sewer maintenance tunnels. “Is the signal still on?” He wants to know if he’s doing this for naught before venturing further.

“Shit… Anyone copy? We’re running… fumes…”

“Guardian? Do you copy?” He feels weird saying that.

A relieved exhale crackles with a static buzz. “Yes! Lots of… … …trapped… close by?”

The Guardian scrunches his brow, trying to make something comprehensible out of the stuttering words.

“We’re close. Hang in there.”

His Ghost looks at him with pride.

The lights in the sewers are dim but enough to see which of the corridors are framed with Fallen bodies. The Ghost shows light over the Guardian’s shoulder as they venture further. The tunnels go deeper underground than they anticipated. It explains why the signal was so poor. It’s quiet again and only the sounds of dripping water accompany them.

“We might be late,” the Ghost points out.

The Guardian doesn’t want to hear it.

Metallic humming slowly fills the corridors as they go deeper. The Guardian grabs his hand cannon from its holster – a weapon looted from the aftermath of someone else’s battle.

“Put the light out.”

The Ghost comes to hover closer to his Guardian’s shoulder.

The narrow tunnel ends up in a rather large rectangular room with multiple doorways on different levels. The corridors lead out into the darkness like branches from a tree trunk. Some of them have collapsed, recently, by the looks of it. On the other end of the clearing lies a row of huge machines that look like water pumps and their controls. The humming reverberating in the room is coming from the two still working ones. Dust is swirling over the rubble on the floor and the Guardian almost trips on a dead Fallen.

“If you’re another Fallen, you’d best come here fast so we can sort this out!” Someone makes a show of spitting as loudly as possible.

“There she is!” the Ghost yelps.

The Guardian checks around for any eyes glowing in the dark and steps into the room.

“We’re here to help!” he says loud enough to be heard over the pumps but can’t see anyone.

“Oh, thank the Traveler!”

Another Ghost, a vanilla colored one, snaps their light on and glides in the air to the Guardian. “Over here! We got trapped in the… explosions,” she explains and leads the way to the massive water pumps. One of them lies broken on the floor.

“Quickly, before they come back!” The other Guardian sounds relieved.

She is a Titan. An Awoken one, just like him. Her broken helmet is on the floor and her hair is caked with dirt, but there’s a distinguishable bubblegum pink shade underneath.

In that moment the Guardian realizes he isn’t wearing his helmet. The helmet he always keeps on. Were he not in the company of a lady, he would let out the ugly words buzzing in his mind.

“C’mon, I can’t lift this by myself,” she groans and motions with her one free hand towards the pile of rubble that used to be a water pump, on her midsection. Three weapons are scattered around her within arm reach and a respectable amount of shell casings dots the floor like stars, twinkling in the Ghosts’ lights.

“I can’t heal her like that.” The vanilla-colored Ghost makes a sad motion of scanning her Guardian again, unable to do anything to help her.

The Guardian clears out some of the debris, hoping that the noise won’t lure out any more Fallen. The more he looks around, the more corpses he sees. The Titan has been efficient in her last stand.

“Ready? Three, two… one…”

She takes in a deep breath as soon as the pump wreckage rises off her chest and the two Guardians push it aside. Her Ghost pulses with Light. She stays on the floor for a few seconds, evening out her breathing and looking at the Guardian next to her. He pulls his hood on and looks away.

Distant skittering sounds soon begin to creep closer, barely distinguishable through the metallic humming.

“We should go.”

“Good call.”

The Titan grabs her weapons, jumps up and motions for the Guardian to lead the way. He isn’t fond of the idea of a fully armed Guardian behind his back but he doesn’t have much choice. The skittering footsteps are rapidly growing in volume, accompanied by ugly words in Eliksni.

An arc trap grenade falls to their feet.

“Run!” the Titan yells and kicks the grenade to where they came from. It explodes midair, creating a convenient, pulsating field of arc energy. First of the Fallen dregs runs straight into it.

The entrance is not far. The Guardian shoots at the Fallen pouring out of the other tunnels and trying to cut in front of them. He doesn’t think anything but the amount of bullets he has left. His aim is steady and the knife on his belt is swift to meet any Fallen that manage to get too personal.

Starlight is already pouring into the corridor and the Guardians move faster, empowered by the thought of a narrow escape from death.

“Watch out!”

The Titan pushes the Guardian aside, catches something from the air and without wasting a trice throws it back towards the entrance.

The loud boom is deafening. Shrill noise pierces the Guardian’s hearing and prevents him from focusing on how the tunnel entrance collapses with Fallen screams. He stumbles to the forest floor and leans on a tree. He feels nauseous. His Ghost says something, but he can only hear the flat, high-pitched noise.

The Ghost pulses with Light and his hearing snaps back.

The Titan walks up to them, eyes narrowed and hands on her hips. The Guardian regrets not running further the moment they got outside. What was he waiting for? To be thanked?

“I’m Maeve. This is Marshmallow. What’s your name?”

The Guardian pauses. What does he have to risk but another bullet in his head?

“Uldren.”

That’s what the other Guardians keep yelling at him. He has thought about coming up with a new name and his Ghost encouraged that, but he hasn’t yet. He has never needed to introduce himself.

The Titan doesn’t miss a beat. “Good to meet you.”                                            

Uldren is still half-expecting to be presented to the business-end of her shotgun. He nods clumsily.

“How did you end up here?” she asks. “Not many Guardians in these parts.”

The wicked feeling of anxiety melting into relief has Uldren huff the air out of his lungs. The Titan really seems friendly. There’s none of that crushing grief or twisting rage on her features that he is used to meeting.

Uldren turns to look at his Ghost for answers.

“We heard your distress signal, Miss Maeve,” he says.

Uldren sorely wishes the Ghost will take this sudden kindness at face value and mention nothing of the past hostile approaches of other Guardians.

“Yeah and now I owe you my dumbass life. Well, one of them, at least. I’m still kinda getting used to this.” She laughs and Uldren’s stone face cracks slightly at the morbidity of seeing a smile bloom in the middle of blood splatters.

“Thank you, Uldren.”

His Ghost nudges his shoulder meaningfully.

“You’re welcome. Maeve.”

“We should head back,” Maeve hums and absent-mindedly combs the dirt off her pink hair.

Uldren fiddles with his belt and gives no reply. He needs to find a way to return to his solitude, though he must admit it’s nice to talk to someone who doesn’t hold him at gunpoint or yell. He peers at the Titan from under his brows, making sure to memorize the features of the first friendly Guardian he has met.

“Can you transmat my Sparrow, Marsh? Thanks.”

Uldren opens and closes his mouth, trying to form words of goodbye.

Maeve turns to look at him, waiting. “Are you coming?”

“I have a camp nearby.” Uldren doesn’t mean to make it sound like an invitation, but he fails miserably. The faint hope of holding on to her company shines through in the words even though they’re meant as an excuse to skip this trip to the Last City.

Maeve cocks an eyebrow in surprise. “You do? Why here when the City’s just a Sparrow’s throw away? And it’s the Dawning. The City’s filled with parties. Or so I’ve heard.”

Uldren scratches the back of his head and looks away. The celebration of friendship and hope is the last thing he wants to participate in.

“We don’t like spending time in the City,” his Ghost explains in a solemn tone.

“I see.” The Titan leans her chin on her fist and tilts her head, thinking. Her Ghost spins in the air and settles close to her cheek, as if trying to whisper something into her ear.

“I should get back then…” Uldren starts but it’s difficult to cut the moment.

“Mind giving me the coordinates to your camp?” Maeve asks, ignoring his hesitant twitching.

“Already sent!” the Ghost rejoices and bounces happily in the air. Uldren shoots a menacing look at him but can’t stay mad at the font of unending positivity.

“Let’s go then,” Maeve says contently. She motions to Marshmallow and the Sparrow disappears.

“What? What are you doing?”

“I’m staying, obviously.”

“But why?”

Maeve scoffs. “No one should be alone on the Dawning. Let’s go. I think I have marshmallows somewhere… I meant edible ones, Marsh. Don’t give me that look.”

Uldren swallows his weak protests and they start walking under the star-littered sky. Two Guardians, strangers to each other but still connected by the Traveler’s grace – or curse, depending on the point of view. Uldren examines Maeve’s lively expressions as she talks and talks and laughs, and he is surprised to feel so… warm. He was expecting something along the lines of pain or regret for saving her. Not the contrary.

“Uldren? Are you still with me?”

A rare smile forms on Uldren’s lips and the long shadow of his previous life feels a little shorter.

“Of course.”

[wykart]

Five and Vanya

Their friendship is precious and look I wrote a fic!! 

Title: Fix Her

Summary: Five was Vanya's only friend at the academy, once he left, everything changed.

A fic about Vanya and Five's friendship growing up, and how that friendship kept them hopeful in all the years they spent apart.

read chapter one under the cut or read on ao3 

Any moment now she’d hear him rustling around downstairs. Maybe he would come through the bedroom window and surprise her, the same way they would sneak out at night. He wouldn’t just go. He wouldn’t leave her all alone here. Five would come back. He’d run off at dinner and hadn’t been back to the house since. Vanya couldn’t sleep not knowing where he was. After their father had stopped calling after him, he’d simply gone back to his meal, and so did the rest of them, as if nothing had happened. Vanya had gotten to her feet, ready to chase off after him. Her father had put a stop to that. He would return when he was ready to face the consequences, he’d said. Her siblings hadn’t even seemed bothered about Five storming off, he liked to make a scene, and would quite often hide himself away in a secluded corner of the house and evade the rest of them for hours. Not Vanya. She knew all of his secret hiding places, she knew because they were here hiding places too. It was going to be alright, she told herself. He would probably be here in her room when she woke up, telling her that she was silly for worrying so much. She held onto that hope as she lay awake, because she knew that she couldn’t face a day in this house without him.

...

Four years earlier

“Go away Vanya,” Allison sneered, “you cant play with us, father said so.” The children were playing again, at least that’s what their father called it when they practised their training drills on one another. Sometimes half would pretend to be robbers, the others the heroes, but it was all just a guise for their true purpose, as father said, to fight off evil.

Vanya had wandered into the middle of their little set up, hoping to integrate herself into the make believe scenario as effortlessly and as welcomely as the others seemed to. She’d shuffled awkwardly into the centre of the room waiting to be noticed, testing the waters, seeing how long it would take for them to send her away. Vanya ignored Allison’s jab and continued shuffling her way towards Luther and Diego, locked in a fist fight that was a little too rough to be considered training. Allison scoffed and went back to Five, who was teleporting around her as she threw punches and kicks. He was laughing, which only egged her on. Five always loved to tease the others, always smirking as he danced around the rest. He’s the only one that ever paid any attention to her, even if it was just in the form of sitting in silence in the library, reading, or the occasional kind remark. The others, even Ben and Klaus, mostly ignored her because they followed the lead of one two and three - and those three followed fathers example to the book. They all admired him, but those three were especially devout. Father ignored vanya, told everyone she wasn’t really part of the academy, that she failed to be strong like the rest of them, to be special. Of course they believed him, he was all they’d ever had. Five was the only one who seems to question that notion.

Vanya practised their fighting moves in secret, the uppercuts and jabs and disarming techniques. It was difficult, learning such things on her own, but she made do. Sometimes she even confined herself that she belonged here.

Luther pushed Diego backwards, who toppled into Vanya as she observed the scene. “What the hell Vanya!” He cried, “you’re just getting in the way, get out of here.” She shrugged an apology and moved on, maybe if she stuck around long enough they’d have to include her. She didn’t have anything better to do.

“Ahhhh,” Klaus cried theatrically, rolling around on the ground with his hand draped over his forehead. “Please save me number one, save me from these terrible fiends!” Klaus was playing hostage, a role that everyone else tended to avoid. Klaus, on the other hand, seemed to enjoy the drama. Ben was sat next to him, giggling, pretending to hold him at gunpoint. Vanya suppressed a smile.

“Vanya!” It was Allison again, she got sort of scary when she was mad. “You’re getting in the way, I have to go free the hostage, you’re messing up our training.”

“Hey guys,” Klaus piped up, breaking his long string of wails, “maybe Vanya can be hostage, she doesn’t really have to do anything.” Allison simply rolled her eyes.

“You shut your mouth, citizen,” Ben grumbled, putting on a deep, gravelly voice.

Klaus grinned and got back to wailing, “ohhhh nooo please don’t kill me!”

“Vanya can’t be hostage,” Luther said, and as leader his word was law. “She’s too quiet and boring, hostages aren’t like that in the real world.”

“Pretty sure hostages aren’t like that in the real world either,” Diego pointed at Klaus, who was rolling around on the floor while Ben laughed and struggled to hold him still. Vanya smiled at Diego to express her gratitude, but he turned away pointedly. Sometimes she suspected he only stuck up for her because it was the opposite of what Luther said.

“We don’t even need a hostage,” Allison added, “we just need to practise fighting, Klaus just likes messing around.”

“That’s right,” Luther muttered, he always agreed with Allison. “We should really just concentrate on honing our skills, father says that’s the only thing that matters.”

“Yeah, well,” Diego smirked, “your skills could use some honing.” He ducked out of the way instinctively, anticipating a punch. Luther managed to hold himself back (for once) and simply grimaced as if the slight had caused him physical pain.

“Can we get back to the game now?” Ben asked, “and can I be the hero next time? Klaus is being weird,” even as he said it Klaus pulled a face and Ben collapses into yet another fit of laughter.

Vanya giggled, but stopped short when she caught sight of Allison’s icy glare. “Vanya.” She said, coldly, “go.” Vanya looked down at her shoes, unmoving.

“Hurry up,” Luther chided, “or we’ll get father, you know you’re not allowed to play with us.” Even Diego didn’t disagree with that sentiment.

Vanya finally mustered up the courage to speak. “I can fight,” she murmured, “I’ve been practising.” Diego badly suppressed a chuckle. “What?” She cried, indignant, “I have been, I bet I could play the hero next time.”

All six of them - no, not Five - shared a knowing glance. They burst out laughing. “Come on, Vanya, it’s ok,” Klaus chuckled, “you don’t have to pretend like you’re one of us.”

“You don’t have powers,” Ben said, a little shy, looking up at Luther and Allison for some sort of praise. “You’re not even really a part of the academy.”

“You were never meant to be here,” Luther said, and Allison, right to his side.

“Father doesn’t want you.” It’s the same phrases, over and over, passed around the circle. No matter how many times she hears them, they hurt just the same.

“Shut up, Allison,” Five snarked, speaking up for the first time. Allison scowled at him, and Luther stepped in front of her protectively, putting himself between her and five. Five rolled his eyes. “Calm down there big boy,” he smirked, “Alison, you should really keep your dog on a leash.” Luther lurched forwards to attack, but Five was gone in a flash of blue light before his fist was even raised. Klaus was laughing hysterically, spluttering the phrase ‘big boy.’

“Shut your mouth, Five,” Luther grumbled, making his voice sound deeper than it really was.

“Why don’t you shut your mouth for once, and stop being so mean to Vanya. It’s not like dad cares about the games we play, they’re just games.”

This only made Luther angrier. “They’re not just games, we’re training as a team. Vanya isn’t part of the team.”

“You really do live in make-believe world, one, not everything’s life or death.”

“You know what? Fine, she can be the hostage. Once. But don’t let dad see or we’ll all be in trouble.”

Five gave a snide smile. “Vanya wants to be the hero, she said so herself.”

Klaus chuckled, “yeah, maybe it’s time to step down, big boy.” Ben was laughing as well, but not at Luther, at the absurdity of such a notion. The notion of letting Vanya lead. They were all laughing at her again.

“I – It’s okay, really,” Vanya stammered, “it was silly, I’ll just…” she turned on the spot, unsure of what to do with herself. “I’ll just go.”

“Vanya, wait!” Five called, but she was already scurrying up the stairs, embarrassed.

She heard the conversation continue a while from the upstairs landing. “Why do you like Vanya so much anyway, Five?” Klaus asked.

“Yeah,” Diego added, “she’s so weird and boring.”

“She’s more interesting than any of you,” Five said. No one had ever called her interesting before. The thought brought a smile to her lips. “All you care about is fighting.”

“What else is there,” Luther replied, smugly, “that’s what we were made for, that’s what our powers are for. Vanya wasn’t made for anything.”

“You, it seems, were made to be a pain in my ass,” Five sniggered. Luther looked aghast, even Diego was taken aback. Klaus roared with laughter.

“If you’re not going to train then just go,” Allison snapped, stepping closer to Five, threateningly. “Go, or I’ll make you.”

Five’s expression darkened. He stepped back, shaking his head. “Fine,” he resorted, “there’s no need.” In another flash, and a burst of warbling energy, he was gone. Allison’s eyes darted up to the landing where Vanya was lurking. She ducked out of the way hurriedly and shut herself in her room. Again.

[lovemesomesurveys]

Can you drive yet? If so, how many tries did it take until you passed? Nope. Have you ever changed yourself to fit in better? I tried to, even as an adult. I always kind of felt like an outsider even among my friends and I just felt like I couldn’t relate to a lot of what they talked about and I didn’t do/want to do what they liked to do. When it came to drinking, yes no one held me at gunpoint and forced me to drink, I did so by my own choice and because I wanted to at times, but mostly I did it because they were and I wanted to fit in. I didn’t want to be the sober friend who felt like I was being left out of some inside joke or something cause they were drunk and having fun. I didn’t want to go to bars, but I went because they did. I wouldn’t have drank as much as I used to if it weren’t for that. Again, totally my choice and I’m not blaming them or anything at all, I’m just saying. Do you prefer fiction or non-fiction books/movies? Fiction books, but I like different genres of movies. Do you keep old shoeboxes? Sometimes. If you could create a perfume, what would it smell like? It would have patchouli notes for sure.

What was your favourite thing to do as a child? Play Barbies. I’d be in my room playing for hours. How would you describe your sense of humour? I like puns, corny jokes, and silly/stupid stuff. But not stupid in like people falling or getting hurt type stuff. I don’t find movies like Step Brothers or The Hangover funny, or most sitcoms. It’s hard to explain my humor. People will show me something they think is funny and most of the time I’ll just like do that little laugh thing or snort air out of my nose, but I’m not laughing like they are. I may give a chuckle at some of the jokes in Family Guy. Honestly, certain, random things will just strike me as funny. I can’t really explain it. Do you have any useful skills? Which? I can type. What type of food does your favourite restaurant serve? I don’t have a favorite restaurant. I’m a fast food junkie and I’m not afraid to admit it. Do you play I Spy while in long car journeys? I did as a kid. Have you ever seen an eclipse? Nope. Are you an interesting person? How so? I don’t think I’m the least bit interesting.

What were you doing last New Year? I was just at home and watched some of the New Year’s shows on TV. Is there anything you’re excited for that’s happening soon? No. Do you think you’re easy to get to know? I guess so. What is something about you that is typical to someone of your gender? I used to be into makeup. What about something atypical? I’m not as into makeup anymore, but that’s largely due to lack of energy and motivation. Are you similar to what your starsign says you should be? I don’t believe in that stuff, but no I’m like total opposite of what a Leo is said to be. Have you ever taken a career test? What did they say you should be? Yeah. It said to do something in the counseling field. Is your best friend older or younger than you? Older. When asked to help make dinner, would you make the starter, main or dessert? I don’t cook. Have you ever had a dream about being online? Probably. Are you one of those people who talks to everyone when they’re out? Nooo. I don’t talk to anyone unless I need to or they say something to me. What was the last TV show you watched? Did you like it? Not a TV show, but I was watching Cheaper by the Dozen 2 a bit ago. What’s your least favourite thing about people your own age? I don’t know. Have you ever daydreamt about your acceptance speech? No, but when I was a kid I sometimes would pretend I was signing autographs and practicing my signature. lol. Do you get other people to speak for you sometimes? Yeah. Like, when I’m at a doctor appointment I’ll often look over to my mom to respond to a question or to help me out when talking about something. Name a really popular television show you never got into: Game of Thrones. Do you find yourself feeling jealous often? What exactly are you jealous of? No, not often. It’s been awhile. I feel envious at times, though. Do you ever insert punctuation in your writing for no reason? No? What was the best thing that happened today? Nothing really happened. Did you ever truly believe in the Tooth Fairy? Yeah. What was your favourite fairy tale when you were a kid? Hmm. Have you ever had chickenpox? Do you have a scar from it? Yep. I have a tiny scar on my nose. Were you one of those kids who were proud when they had a bruise? No. What is one of your biggest fears? Losing my loved ones. Do you listen to any unsigned bands/singers? Who? No. What do you find really interesting? Psychology. What’s your favourite onomatopoeia? Pew, pew, pew. *Star Wars sounds* Who is your favourite video game character? Mario.

[sebastianstansjawline]

So I gave “Suburra: Blood on Rome” a shot...

...after seeing it on the Netflix home screen several times. Initially I was just intrigued because pretty Italian boys were staring at me very intensely, and the blurb sounded somewhat Snatch-esque. And while the first few episodes are nowhere near the manic energy of a Ritchie gangster film, I've found the show to be strangely engaging.

As a disclaimer, I've only watched up through episode 5 (with a bit of a pause after episode 3 for crying). I have no idea if the show will take a turn or pull something crazy in the latter half, but I'm still engaged and I wanted to get my initial thoughts out up front to maybe spread some publicity because it's a fun show that more people should see.

First of all, this is definitely a show for a mature audience. There's swears, boobies, and people bashing other people's heads into the pavement until they stop moving. But unlike a lot of films or paid cable shows I could mention, these mature elements never feel excessive. They're always placed exactly where they're needed to create a sense of realism. You feel shocked or sickened or aroused, but nothing really sticks in the back of your throat. The plot's moving too quickly to linger on gore and sex. (Also, male nudity! Equal opportunity nudity!)

Despite the slower pacing, the plot does feel like a Ritchie film, mixed in with a bit of The Wire's sense of grey morality. The story mostly centers on three protagonists (who I will get into later) and their scheme to make a bunch of cash off of a blackmail opportunity that, quite literally, falls at their feet. These three and their intra- and interpersonal complexities are framed with a slew of supporting characters who are equally morally ambiguous. Everyone has an angle, no one is innocent. And lurking in the background of all of it, far above the heads of our “protagonists” is a land deal that has the attention of both Vatican City, the Mafia, and a mysterious but powerful Countess.

Yeah. The Italian Mafia. Like the one from Sicily.

But that really is only a background concern, the inevitable weight that's pushing everything and everyone forward. The engaging part is the little subplots tangling all up in the foreground. Our three main characters are really what hooked me in the beginning and kept me interested. Full disclosure, they're the only reason I kept watching past the pilot at all.

The first episode is clunky and a bit awkward and suffers from some truly horrible dialogue. As an English speaker, I'm a slave to the subtitles, so this may not be true for an Italian speaker. It's hard to blame this awkward start, though, as it would be difficult to introduce so many characters and plotlines right off the bat in a perfect manner. Unfortunately, set-up is boring and none of it really engaged me until the literal last five minutes of the pilot when our three main characters' individual plotlines finally converge and they're all standing in the same room together. Their chemistry in that one brief scene was enough for me to come back for the second episode. And then the one after that. Because besides the pilot every episode focuses heavily on these three and it's great.

There's Alberto “Spadino” Anacleti (Giacomo Ferrara), the unstable, angry, closeted son of a Romani ganglord. Facing an arranged marriage and a life of smothering who he is, he chooses to face it with a death grin, psychotic giggling, and the occasional dance number. Ferrara may just be the best actor of the trio, managing to bottle up ungodly amounts of desperation and pain into just his eyes. With all of that shining out of his gaze, it's truly unnerving when he smiles. You feel like he's going to snap at any moment. And when he does, in little fits and bursts of violence, it almost feels like a release of pressure. Until it all inevitably builds up again.

Perhaps the most innocent of the entire cast is Gabriele “Lele” Marchilli (Eduardo Valdarnini), a university student on track to become a cop like his father. He seems to be more interested in a career as a fixer, already setting up drug deals and organizing parties (hookers and coke included) for influential people. He is the least familiar with the criminal underworld and gang activity in particular, and expresses revulsion at the idea of killing a witness, but still is a-okay with blackmail and extortion. Unlike the other two in their little group who do this sort of thing in their careers, Lele needs the money to pay off a big bad mafioso he accidentally crossed.

And then probably my favorite character: Aureliano “Number 8” Adami (Alessandro Borghi), the stone-cold thug with a soft gooey center. He boxes, talks about how much he misses his mom, holds priests at gunpoint, and can't bring himself to shoot a hooker just for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Probably the perfect microcosm of his character is a scene in which he kills a man for disrespecting him, then adopts the dead man's dog rather than leave it whimpering in the street. (Fair warning: the dog plot is heartbreaking MULTIPLE TIMES). Aureliano suffers from a little of Spadino's crazy eyes, but Aureliano's are more likely to well up with tears than to snap into a psychotic rage. He encapsulates the same attitude though—a boy who grew up too fast and hasn't quite finished yet.

There are so many subplots and character motivations going on, not just from these three but from everyone around them. Just a highlight reel: the building gang war between Spadino's and Aureliano's families a la the Montagues and Capulets, the slow corruption of an honest politician, a shrewd Vatican auditor facing bankruptcy, and the super intimidating mafioso who rides around on a little motorbike with a helmet and everything.

It really is a Ritchie plot with the weight of The Wire.